


A Corpse of Many Colors

by BittersweetAlias, KimpatsuNoHoseki



Series: Harem of a Necromancer [2]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark!Greyish Harry, Drama, Language, M/M, MoD Harry, Multi, Some AU mixed elements of both Harry Potter and the Anita Blake Series, Strong Violence, Strong sexual content, vampire shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 105,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22011181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BittersweetAlias/pseuds/BittersweetAlias, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimpatsuNoHoseki/pseuds/KimpatsuNoHoseki
Summary: With Edward out of town, Harry expected things to quiet down a bit for the rest of the summer. But between Jean-Claude, Andy, a blast from the past, a determined billionaire, and vaudun practioners Harry can’t catch a break. And Harry really hated dealing with vaudun.Book Two: The Laughing Corpse
Relationships: Edward/Harry Potter, Jean-Claude/Harry Potter, Rafael & Harry
Series: Harem of a Necromancer [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532249
Comments: 434
Kudos: 1148
Collections: Ashes' Library





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Kimpatsu is back and we're ready for action! Here's the first chapter of the second book. 
> 
> A continuation of the Anita Blake series starring Harry Potter! Some things have changed to suit Harry's world and who he is. In fact, a lot of things have changed. A few have remained the same where it's needed Ie: crime scenes. If anyone has a weak tummy to violence I'll be sure to warn ahead of time for the crime scenes so you can skim over those bits if its too much for you! We hope you enjoy this. <3

# Chapter One

It wasn’t every day that Harry went to a prospective client’s house for a meeting about raising the dead. Normally, they made an appointment with Bert, his boss, and then Harry would decide whether he wanted to take it or not. 

Not this time. 

Harold Gaynor was a multi-billionaire, and he was used to having people and things come to him. Not the other way around. Bert hadn’t told him anything except that he was insanely rich, in a wheelchair, and ready with a fat checkbook to offer money to their company for Harry to raise the dead. 

Already it sounded fishy. Harry had been through enough in his twenty-four years of living to know when something sounded too good to be true. 

Immediately, his mind supplied him with an image of Jean-Claude’s perfect face. Harry was not yet able to comfortably call the master vampire anything more than a friend. It’d been some odd weeks since his stand-off against Nikolaos, the former Master of the City, and Zachary, a dead Animator who tried to pull a Voldemort. 

For years, Jean-Claude had been tentatively pursuing him, and only recently had that pursuit been ramped up. He was now Jean-Claude’s human servant. He bore two of the four marks required to make it permanent. In essence, he was Jean-Claude’s human to call. Yeah, Harry never imagined that this would happen to him. He was aware of human servants. He was aware that they were important, and it was some sort of give and take system where the vampire got power from the human and vice versa. In the end, the human got immortality, the vampire got… _what?_ Harry didn’t know. 

He wasn’t sure what Jean-Claude would really get out of the deal except for maybe some use of his magic, but it wasn’t like Harry was the most powerful or even the smartest wizard in the world. He’d left his mother country behind years ago, and never once looked back.

He had a feeling now that it was done and over, that this had been Jean-Claude’s plan in the first place. To have others do the dirty work so he could slither into position, and take up the throne as Master of the City. Jean-Claude never came off as anything more than a gorgeously seductive and mildly powerful master vampire. But Harry knew that all snakes could lay docile in a coiled position, watching and waiting for its prey to turn its back before striking. Snakes were incredibly crafty creatures. If Harry was to liken him to a specific species of snake, he would go with a viper. 

All of Harry’s life, he had been unusually drawn to snakes. So surprise surprise when over the river and through the woods across a pond to a new life he would collect a few. He should have known it was an omen when Draco followed him. 

August was always one of those testy months when it came to the summer heat. St. Louis had seen a dry spell with not a rain cloud in sight to break the vastness of pale blue. The sun was unrelenting and there were heat advisories, and concerns over water consumption. 

That didn’t stop Harold Gaynor from having sprinklers going off across the vast emerald fields though. It reminded him of plenty of hot summers at the Dursleys, but one in particular was just after the resurrection of Lord Voldemort and Dementors came to visit along with a strongly worded Ministry letter. Don’t forget the dreams that turned into reality. It had been one of the worst years of his life. He would much rather take on five Nikolaos’ than go back to that point. Who the hell would want to time-travel through Harry’s life? Not him. 

Bert Vaughn, Harry’s boss, was grinning as he turned into the sparkling white gravel driveway of a manor that would be impressive if he hadn’t lived in a castle for seven years or seen the Malfoy residence. His boss looked like a Hogwarts’ Beater except he was getting a bit on with a pooching stomach. He had white blonde hair that reminded him of Draco. Good Merlin, if Draco turned out like his boss, he was going to kick the git. Hopefully, Harry could prevent that from happening. It was all in the company you kept after all, right?

Shit. He was screwed. He hung out with a manic Slytherin Prince who didn’t even know how to make a sandwich. He hung out with a suave and sexy master vampire with all the manipulation of the world at his fingertips, and the intellect to use it. And then there was Edward. Good ol’ sociopathic Edward with ice blue eyes, and a killer smile. What oh what was he going to become having company like this? Ah well, did it really matter? 

Bert wore an expensive tailored suit that was made to hide his imperfections. His eyes twinkled, excited as he was about filling his coffers even higher. Harry, on the other hand was a bit more casual. A black pair of hip-hugging slacks tailored in the right places, silk crimson button down, and a dove gray and black loose vest. All topped with ankle length boots that gave him some much needed height and a custom made belt that held his wand, a gun, and a series of knives in place hidden beneath an invisibility spell. It was much too hot for anything more, and as soon as they opened the door Bert was pouring in sweat. 

Awe, cooling charms at their finest. 

Originally, Harold Gaynor had hoped to get the Executioner, but the woman had transferred out to the San Francisco office for some reason or another, and he would be stuck with Harry. If Harry agreed to his proposal. 

He was still suspicious, but calmly waited for his boss who wiped the sweat from his brow and adjusted his needle thin tie. “How do you do it, Harry?” 

“Magic.” He smiled, and Bert snorted. “I could do the same to you if you’re willing.” He didn’t wait for his boss to answer as he ran a palm down the man’s arm; causing him to jolt as a cool sensation washed beneath him. 

“Mercy!” Bert grunted as he breathed a sigh of relief. “I feel like a refrigerator. I’d ask for specifics on how it’s cooling me, but I’m sure I don’t need to know.” 

“Nope, and I could hardly tell you. I’m more of the hands on. Do it if it works kind of man. If you want logistics see someone else about it. Likely Draco.” Bert liked Draco. He’d met the man once, and the two had a conversation about business and money that lasted three hours. 

“Just know it’s safe enough that parents commonly use them on their children and the elderly.” 

Bert nodded as they headed up the drive, the gravel crunching beneath their feet. Some of it glittered like diamonds in the sun. He rubbed his hands together. “Today is a good day.” Any day he got to make a lot of money in the span of an hour was the best day for Bert. Bert placed on his most professional smile of sincerity as Harry took the opportunity to knock. Bert was forever unscrupulous, and Harry liked and hated that about the man. 

As the door opened, Harry was greeted with the sight of a large overgrown muscular man in a stretching orange shirt with a black sport jacket that looked way too small as though the seems were about to split. He wasn’t much taller than Harry, but it was his size. Bodyguard. All multi-millionaires needed bodyguards. It was a rule of sorts. 

He looked at them silently, his eyes were a pale shade and they reminded him of the way Edward’s would sometimes look dead. 

Realizing this, Harry was actually glad to have put on his customized belt that morning. He almost went without it, but when you were the new Master of the City’s human servant, chances were someone big and bad knew that, even if it was recent. 

A lot of eyes had seen them that day taking out Nikolaos and her ilk. Most notably ten or so wererats who had wished to be free of Nikolaos. He also had no doubt that Jean-Claude might have let his slip that he had a human servant that happened to be one of the most powerful wizards in America. He wasn’t that powerful, but the way it sounded would help Jean-Claude condense his power. 

Geez, he was thinking far too much about Jean-Claude these days, and he hardly heard Bert greet the silent guard. “Hello, I’m Bert Vaughn and this is my associate Harry Potter-Black. I believe Mr. Gaynor is expecting us.” Bert’s smile was charming enough to knock the socks off a lot of people, but this was not one of them. Harry felt as though he were being scanned, and did his best to remain aloof and relaxed at Bert’s side. Harry was nothing that looked threatening. 

He was small for a man. About five five with another point five on the American scale chart, and years of running for his life and living with the Dursleys had tailored his body to be forever slim. His hair was a wild gravity defying black that couldn’t be tamed. While once upon a time he used to wear glasses, ever since the first vampire mark he hadn’t needed them. 

He was as pale as a vampire, and his eyes were a bright shade of green that often had people looking twice at them. Another source of contention with others was how young he looked. 

Rafael had told him that he smelled all of seventeen. As if that’s all the years he lived or some such. Harry had no idea there was a smell when it came to age. He supposed it took all kinds, but he was twenty-four, honest. 

A birthday last week and all. 

As the bodyguard moved away from the door, he left it open as a signal for the two of them. Bert went in first, and Harry followed behind into the icy cold Entrance Hall. Heavy wooden doors, floors, and runners made up the long central entrance, and they were taken to a library that was packed from floor to ceiling with tightly knitted books behind thick shelves with a pane of clear glass. Harry couldn’t possibly get his library so clean. He’d tried multiple times, but the dust was just too much. These were never read, they were never even opened. Probably bought for display purposes only. 

Most of the furniture was red and leather. A mix of modern and man-cave with the way they looked overstuffed. A hefty man sat near the far wall. He was smiling at them the moment they entered. He was in an electric wheelchair with a blanket draped over his lap to hide his legs. 

“Mr. Vaughn and Mr. Potter-Black, how nice of you to drive out,” he looked every bit of the kindly grandfather sort. His eyes sparkled in the soft lightning. 

He wasn’t alone, a tall slender dark-skinned man sat in one of the leather chairs. Harry could tell from his long legs that he was well over six foot. His dark brown eyes had no interest in Bert and were all on Harry, searching him from head to toe. He ignored the mild flicker of disbelief that someone so young and small looking could even be remotely useful. Harry was used to it, so he could tell when his appearance was being judged. Now, why did Jean-Claude want him so bad again? 

The larger man who had led them to the library leaned against the nearest bookcase. As introductions were passed around he learned that the men were named Bruno and Tommy respectively. Tommy was the big guy, and Bruno was the dark man staring at him. It was as though he hadn’t noticed Bert at all who was doing most of the talking. 

Harry simply observed, and wondered why such a kind acting man would have a stream of bodyguards? He somehow reminded Harry of Horace Slughorn. Another slippery creature trying to work their way into his life somehow. Brilliant. 

As they sat around the library, Bert got right down to business. “Now, Mr. Gaynor, I know you must be a busy man. So, exactly how old is the zombie you want raised?” 

“A man who gets right down to business. I like that.” He paused briefly then looked over at the door where a tall beautiful blonde woman with light blue eyes wandered into the room. 

Harry saw Bert react pleasantly to her, she was wearing a very short dress that would likely see Narcissa Malfoy pursing her lips in distaste. Harry was likely the only one in the room without a hint of interest. Even Tommy and Bruno were eyeing her. 

He learned that not only was her name Cicely, but she was also deaf. None of that mattered when Mr. Gaynor finally got to the point of the meeting, and the tiny white hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle with anxiety. 

“I want you to raise a two-hundred-and-eighty-three-year old corpse.” 

_Shit._ Harry thought keeping his face neutral as Bert’s eyes widened in surprise. 

He cleared his throat. “Well, that is nearly three hundred years old. A very old zombie to raise indeed. Most animators couldn’t do it.” 

_Hell no_.

“Yes, I am aware of the fact that only two or three in all of the country could raise such a zombie. I’ve done my research; and while you are not Ms. Blake you do have a reputation, Mr. Potter-Black,” said Gaynor never dropping his smile as Cicely sat on the arm of his electric chair. It was like she didn’t care that her legs were a little too open. It was like she was trying to seduce him into saying yes. If only she could hear them. He wondered what she would think.

Bert turned to Harry. “Harry?” 

Harry took in a slow breath, and kept his gaze as blank as possible. “I do have the ability to raise such a well-aged zombie,” he said slowly, and before he could continue Bert clapped his hands. 

“Well that settles it then…” 

“But, like hell will I do it,” said Harry stalling Bert completely. His smile dropped at this. 

“A million dollars, Mr. Potter-Black,” said Gaynor still pleasant as though he knew Harry was going to change his mind. 

“Sorry Mr. Gaynor, I can’t be bought,” he said shaking his head, and was already standing. “Bert we need to go.” 

“What-?” 

“Now, Mr. Potter-Black, surely we can come to an understanding.” 

Harry frowned at Gaynor. “No, I don’t think we can.” 

“Harry what are you saying? This is unusual for you. You’re never rude!” Bert said in shock. 

“I’m not being rude. I’m being honest, Bert. You know that the older the zombie the bigger the sacrifice.” 

“Yeah, what does it need? An elephant? I’m sure I can procure one.” 

Elephants were endangered, and Harry for a single moment hated his boss as he stared at the man dully. “Human.” 

Bert spluttered. “What?” 

“We are willing to provide it,” said Gaynor. “It’s no surprise, Mr. Potter-Black, we have heard things about you.” 

It. As though it were not a live human. To Gaynor he must have felt like he was talking about the weather. “I don’t really care what you’ve heard. I’ve had rumors circling around me all my life. What’s a few new ones? Maybe you’d have had better luck with the Executioner, or not if she decides to take your head off. I’m just leaving.” 

Bruno rose from his leather chair. “I suggest you not walk out on Mr. Gaynor so rudely. They say you sleep with vampires. Surely, if you sleep with the dead you have few morals as it is.” 

Resisting the urge to shoot a spell at the tall man, Harry decided that he was done, and turned on his heel only for Tommy to step into his path. “I suggest you move aside, sir. I’m not doing it, and nothing you say or offer will get me to change my mind.” 

Bert was already on his feet. 

“Now, Mr. Potter-Black I’m sure there is something-” 

Harry whirled around. “You’re talking about a _live_ human being sacrificed for the raising of a zombie,” he hissed unaware of the bright glow in his green eyes that caused Cicely to flinch and Tommy to step back. “I suggest you move your bodyguard here and now.” Bruno still wasn’t moving, and Harry’s skin was rippling. His magic began to rush through his veins more hot and assured. He felt as though he were getting boosted by something. “I don’t care how much you are worth or what kind of tricks you think you can use on me. But you are mistaken if you think you can get in my way. _Now move!_ ” Harry barked, and with a rush of magic Tommy went flying back against the wall causing several expensive landscapes to fall from the wall, and the chandelier above their heads to rattle. 

Tommy was left winded and Bruno was up, crossing over to step in front of Gaynor. But, Harry didn’t turn back as he made his way out of the manor, Bert following swiftly at his heels. 

Harry did not speak as he crunched across the gravel, Bert panted and huffed as he ran to catch up. “I am so sorry Harry I didn’t know!” 

“I’m not angry at you,” said Harry sliding into the sweltering hot car. “You couldn’t have known,” he said once Bert was inside. He turned the ignition and the ice cold air began to flood out over them. “You’re a businessman not an Animator. I just didn’t like being blocked by some dunderhead.” 

Bert grimaced. “I should have known it was too good to be true.” 

Harry shrugged his seatbelt on as they drove out. “I have a feeling that won’t be the last time I see them.” 

“You spooked them.” 

“He was in my way, and the very idea of sacrificing a live human for someone almost three centuries old that needs to stay dead…” Harry shook his head. “I don’t know why he wants to do it, but nothing will make me change my mind.” 

“Of course not. I don’t need that kind of reputation. It’s bad for business.” That was Bert. Money first, death later. 

Well, least his priorities were on the straight and narrow. He sighed softly and brushed a hand across his forehead, propping his elbow onto the door as he stared ahead of him. 

How could anyone even think a decent human being would sacrifice another human for a zombie? He was now exhausted, the rush of power he’d gotten while inside Gaynor manor had been a bit too much all of a sudden, and left him winded. Could this have been a boost from the mark?

“Harry? What did he mean by sleeping with vampires?” asked Bert tentatively. 

“I’m friends with one, and that is all, Bert. Besides, if I was sleeping with a vampire I wouldn’t have been doing summonings around the clock for weeks straight because I’m the only one who can do it without the need of a break.” He’d been at it hot and heavy. Admittedly, he’d done it as a way to avoid Jean-Claude for the moment. 

He needed an excuse to not see - _whatever_ it is Jean-Claude was to him. It wracked his nerves something fierce. Not even a month ago the life he had carved out in the land of the free had taken a turn for the unexpected. Five years of boring normal living except for the zombie raising, and then _bam_! 

Harry Potter was used to the unexpected, and for years he’d lived with not knowing what would come next. He used to hate it. He hated being singled out. He hated the idea of being special in any way, shape, or form. But now, standing on the other side, Harry didn’t mind so much. He could still do with not being singled out. He had given up any hope that the lifestyle of the Normal and Boring was something he sought. 

His mother country had put him on a plinth not even a year into his birth, and it set the course without ever asking him for permission. But, this time Harry had invited himself along for the ride. A dangerous set of men that were tinged with something more, and Harry hardly understood what that meant. 

So why, if Harry had given his mother country up, was he thinking about all this? Draco.

He had returned home later that afternoon to find Draco in the midst of packing. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take some time off? I know you have holidays saved up!” Draco was running around his room casting spells to send nearby items into a leather suitcase. Harry was sitting on an extra soft velvet armchair watching the man-child flit around. “Mother would love to have you. She’s been asking about you.” Draco had followed him over the pond about two years after Harry made the first move, and here he was almost Mugglefied. Not exactly, but it was close enough. 

Draco was living proof that hard-boiled cultural views could be changed or at least softened. He was attending a muggle university, and had taken classes through the summer. But now, with classes about to ramp back up in the fall, there was a two week loll after the exams he’d studied and worked his arse off for. He was going back to Britain, and Harry had no interest in stepping foot back there unless he was retrieving Teddy. 

“Let her know the door is always open for her if she would like to come here,” said Harry. 

“I hope not! I love mother, but she’s difficult. She accepts that I’m cohabitating in the Muggle world, but she doesn’t want to see it, you know? She’d go mad if she saw you cleaning and cooking like a house-elf!” 

Harry sulked with a cross of his arms. “Hey, my cleaning and cooking has kept you clean and healthy! I think she’d approve of the take charge attitude of her little baby.” 

Draco flushed and let out a noise. “I don’t want to test it. It’s best to divide the two and I go there instead of her coming here. I’m not sure how she’d feel about your boyfriends.”

Harry blanched. “Boyfriends? I don’t have a boyfriend much less multiple!” His voice did not go higher than it should have, and he did not have panic bubbling in his throat ready to spill all over the fine Ermine rug beneath his bare-feet. 

“Whatever you say, Harry,” said Draco in a muffled voice. He was digging in the wardrobe with a grumble. “I need a bigger wardrobe. You know, one of those closets where you walk in and you can even sit down? I want one of those!” 

“I’ll get right on it, Prince Draco,” Harry drawled. “Or you could do it with magic.”

“You know I’m not good at space charms. Anyway, I don’t think it’s a good idea to expose her to this world yet.” 

“I think you should have more faith in your mother.” 

Both of them equally chose not to talk about Lucius Malfoy’s feelings regarding the Muggle world, and Draco’s cohabitation. Harry was going to guess that Lucius wasn’t the most pleased with it, but Draco had learned something of diplomacy living with Harry. If Draco could appeal to the man’s business side then everything else would fall where it would. 

“So, you admit that Jean-Claude is not a boyfriend?” 

Harry’s face burned, and he quickly averted his eyes as he thought about the seductive master vampire. He’d been avoiding the man for a while now, which wasn’t easy when he would appear in his sleep. It usually amounted to a half naked Jean-Claude, heavy breathing, silk sheets, and touches that made him want to scamper away and hide beneath something while at the same time wanting more. 

He would always awaken covered in a filmy layer of sweat, his body responding to the nightly advances that he tried to brush away. It also didn’t help that there were times throughout the day where he would become unusually hot. As if an Incendio had been cast down his throat. It would burn and settle in the pit of his stomach. A few times he had to leave the room if only to douse himself in water. Not even cooling charms worked, and he’d tried. Multiple times. 

He chalked it up to his acknowledgment that being the marked servant of Jean-Claude may one day result in things advancing. But, Harry wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be ready, and then there was Edward. 

Edward. Edward. Edward. 

He’d only dropped by once since he walked out of the wererats’ clinic. He stopped in on his way to New Oreleans with a question about the magical hub. He could have called, but when it came to important marks, Edward preferred not sharing anything over the phone. But, the last time he showed up, Harry couldn’t get a read on him. Not even the usual. He had been closed off and cold. He was completely immobile as though he were a statue. 

He didn’t even call Harry by the usual nickname. He came for what he wanted, grabbed a cup of coffee, and left soon after. He did, however, leave a new gun sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. Harry added it to the large box of things Edward’s gifted him that was shoved under his bed. Edward would be furious if he found out. 

He must have spaced out too long because there was movement and a shuffle. He raised his head to see Draco standing a few feet from him, arms crossed. “You’re awful quiet over here. I thought you’d fallen asleep.” 

“Sorry.” 

“You never answered my question.” 

Right. He didn’t, did he? “Jean-Claude is not my boyfriend. He’s not even a boy. He can’t fall under the title boyfriend. He’s just a good mate.” 

“Uh huh, and the roses of a different color that are left on the doorstep every morning isn’t a sign that he’s courting you?” 

Roses. He’d almost forgot. Every single morning they would wake, and one of them would stumble over a large bouquet. This morning’s roses had been a bright yellow color. Yesterday’s were a pretty pale pink. Harry was only lucky that he had so much room in the house to display such beautiful flowers, and magic to keep them fresh. It would be rude not to, right? That was Harry’s excuse for not tossing them. Besides, that would kind of be insulting toward Jean-Claude. A vampire who stepped between him and Nikolaos. 

“Courting. Merlin, I’d laugh at how stupid that sounded if you weren’t spot on. That would be so him,” said Harry slouching in his seat. “I don’t really know what he is.” 

Draco nodded sagely. “Fair enough I suppose, and then what about that one guy?” 

It was a strange day when Harry had to ask. “Which?” 

“Tall, dark, and handsome? You know the one who always looks kind of pissed off, but he’s not? He reminds me of Blaise Zabini a bit.” Harry had never really known Blaise. Just was aware of him. He never mixed or mingled with Draco’s usual group. 

“Rafael,” Harry corrected. “I’ve only seen him once, and that was to hand off books to a friend. She was interested in magical healing.” 

“But, you’ve talked to him. Just about every night.” 

“Are you listening at my door?” 

Draco smirked. “No, but unless it’s work or me you never use the phone.” 

Harry forgot that when Draco set his mind to it, he could be scary observant. But, he didn’t have to defend himself. “Nothing is going on with me and Rafael. He’s a friend. He helped me out a good bit. At first, I thought you were talking about Edward. I was going to remind you he was blond.” 

Draco made a noise and turned back to his luggage. “I wasn’t even going to mention him, but you thought of him? Really?” Draco found Edward unsettling. He always had, and often made a point to leave the room or go somewhere else whenever the assassin came to call. 

Edward was of course the picture perfect polite man, but that didn’t stop Draco from feeling that little alarm in the back of his head that told him that danger was near. Harry supposed that his own alarm signals had been fried years ago. Draco only had two years worth of Voldemort to his seven. 

“Well, he is the most consistent guest in the house. So much so he has his own room.” Harry had been debating about whether to get the man his own floor, or at least his own key. His house had a lot of spare rooms. It was really way too much for two people to live in. 

Draco shook his head. “Anyway, the point I was making is that mother wouldn’t understand it. Pureblood society has a habit of being rather reserved when it comes to courting and relationships. It would be a shock to her is all.” 

Harry decided that arguing with Draco was moot. For one, he didn’t want to talk about the nuances of relationships or courting or anything to do with one plus one equalling two in any way possible. He was having enough issues not running for his life, thank you very much. 

“Okay. Just relax and have fun. No thinking about studying or classes until you get back. Oh, and if you do come back with Pansy Parkinson on your arm, you’re looking for a new place to live.” 

Draco barked in laughter. “If I come back with Pansy Parkinson on my arm, Potter, you better bloody well know that she has drugged me with a Love Potion, and fix me right! Besides, last I heard Nott was dating her.”

Harry did give him a list of things to pick up from one of his vaults along with a spare key. Over the years there might have been a lot of things about Draco that Harry might not have liked or downright hated. But, the rich boy being a thief was not one of them. Draco didn’t have to steal, and he had the tenacity and pride not to do it. Draco also got Harry to agree to him looking over the charities he was donating to frequently while at the Bank.

It was so easy when a witch or witch traveled. All you had to do was get an agreement for an International Port-Key, which had runes tied to it so that it would send you over the correct distance without dropping you in the ocean. They were expensive and an iron stomach was required as the whirring lasted about five minutes, but it sure beat hours in a cramped box full of Muggles in the air. 

Personally, Harry didn’t mind planes. He would rather fly on his broom across the ocean, but Draco had nixed that idea due to air currents, weather, and muggles. 

Harry was sure he could make it. He was as cocky as Jean-Claude and Edward combined when it came to his own flying skills. Hm, maybe he and Jean could have a race one day? Harry would like to see if he could keep up with a master vampire. Listen to him, he must be losing his mind. 

Gaynor had left a bad aftertaste in his mouth. What the hell was he after? How could anyone be so bold? What if Harry went to police about this? Not like they would do anything. Gaynor was the type of man who oozed money from every available orifice. Not to mention he had no idea who they were wanting to use or what they were wanting to raise. All he had was his and Bert’s word. 

Dolph would believe him, but it would be a dead-end. No evidence, and still Gaynor would have to actually commit the act, and in the end it wouldn’t even be Gaynor killing the sacrifice. It would be the animator. 

He could count on one hand and still have a digit left, the amount of people who could raise a century old zombie. Harry was one, Anita was another, and then there were two more he was partially aware of. Harry was currently the only local.

He had a rare night off from work. Lately, he had been working so hard to stay busy just so that he didn’t have to think about the chaotic men in his life. So much so that he wasn’t sure what to do on a night alone. No surprise then that he was startled when he heard a knock at the door. 

That was not usual. He got calls, not knocks. Edward never knocked. He headed to the Entrance Hall, and listened at the door. He heard nothing, but then came the second knock. He unlocked and opened the door. His eyes widening in surprise when he saw the tall deeply tanned man of Mexican descent with dark chocolate brown hair and equally chocolate eyes standing in his doorway. He had a soft and deep voice. His strong jaw and thin brows made Harry think of an aristocrat; expect for the cut off jean shorts he wore with loose open button downs. 

“Rafael!” It was the first time after all their conversations that Rafael had accepted one of his constant reminders that his door was always open; that he and any wererat were welcome. 

“Going somewhere?” 

“No,” said Harry letting him into the house. “I just got in not long ago. Just saw my house-mate off, he’s headed back to Britain to visit his parents. Please come in!” 

Rafael looked around the glimmering entrance hall of warm dark colors with a light airy atmosphere. “Seems awful big for two people.” 

“It really is,” agreed Harry closing the door back. He set the lock back into place. “But, it was one of the most habitable properties, and being so close to Animators, Inc is a plus. I assure you, it did not look like this when I first saw it. In fact, if you go further than the fourth floor you’ll see what it was like. I have spiders the size of my head nested up there.” 

Rafael looked at him blankly. “You’re not kidding?” 

“No. I keep it contained with a warding spell. They can’t come down, but I sometimes hear skittering.” He lead Rafael to the kitchen. “Coffee?” 

“Please. Who is this Draco you refer to?” 

“A git,” said Harry grinning. “Nah. He’s a good friend of mine who followed me over here. He’s living proof that opinions of people can change.” He set out the cream and sugar, but Rafael seemed to like it the way it was. 

“You think so?” 

Harry nodded and moved to sit across from Rafael. “Yup. He grew up in a world where he was taught to hate non-magical people. He shunned them. He cursed them. He wasn’t allowed to see or know anything about them. But, now he has embraced them. Maybe not cuddle hugs, but he’s going to university. He loves films and cars, and he’s really into fashion. It’s the only reason why I wear anything remotely fashionable.” 

Rafael smirked. “You do pick up interesting friends Harry, I must say. Lillian thanks you for the medical texts. She has too many questions for me to play messenger boy. I told her to write them down.” He pulled out several stapled papers causing Harry to snicker as he took it and set it aside. 

“I’ll hand it off to Draco. He’ll know more about it than I would. So, what’s going on in that part of the world? I’ve been so busy lately…” 

“Yes, I know, that is why I’m here,” said Rafael looking a touch sour. “I have become another messenger.” 

“I hope you’re getting paid for all the messages. A King shouldn’t be sending messages to such lowly peasants after all.” Harry had taken to teasing Rafael a bit about being known as King. 

Rafael, while proud, had taken it in stride knowing that Harry didn’t mean anything rude by it. “It seems that the choice of Master of the City is not a foolhardy one. You are Jean-Claude’s human servant.” 

Harry sighed, and looked at his coffee. “Yeah, I don’t really understand it.” 

“What’s not to understand? You belong to him,” said Rafael observing Harry closely. 

Harry winced at this. “Is that how it goes? I wouldn’t put it like that. I told him I’d help him out, but I don’t know what he wants from me.” 

“...” 

“I don’t get it and I don’t get him, and he knows if he pushes me a little too far I might very well explode. He’s a friend.”

“That isn’t what they say,” said Rafael causing Harry to groan and drop his head forward. “It’s not that difficult.” 

“Maybe not for you!” Harry grumbled into the shiny mahogany wood. “He’s been teasing and flirting with me since I met him. I never bothered to take any of it seriously, and then he goes and marks me, and suddenly he expects things from me. He expects stuff I don’t quite understand or see a reason why. I’m not interesting. He has a thousand and one men and women throwing themselves at him. Let him have them!” Although, as he said it, he didn’t believe his words. His stomach began to curl as though he were ill, and a fierce thread looped around his throat like a noose. 

He hadn’t noticed Rafael studying him so closely. “Jean-Claude wishes for your presence.” 

“Does he have to be so mysteriously dramatic? He does have my phone number. He could call,” said Harry. 

“Or you could call,” Rafael pointed out. “He has offered my community a lot of jobs. He is combining the wolves and rats together for projects. It is a good thing that we are often interconnected and are friends. It’s a good working relationship, and helps my Mischief of Rats,” he smirked as he said this, and Harry grinned. 

The first time he had heard that a group of rats were called a Mischief, he had been amused. Not only did it sound adorable, but it reminded him of his father who was a magical mischief maker, and then there was George who no longer had Fred. 

“Wolves?” It was the first he’d heard of Jean-Claude making a pact with wolves. 

“His animal to call. Did you not know?” 

“I don’t know much,” Harry shook his head. “Honestly, Rafael, I feel like I’m on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic ocean without a single paddle to row myself with.” 

“Let me guess, you have a line of sharks circling you looking rather hungry.” 

“Mhmm, and I have no idea what to do.” 

Rafael tapped his large finger on the cup of coffee, staring at Harry who had lowered his chin slightly. “Normally, I would tell you to keep careful around the master if you are his human servant. However, learning more about you has caused me to re-think this particular piece of advice. I’m going to go out on a limb and tell you to do as you see fit. If you are out on the ocean without a paddle, do you not have magic?” 

Harry threw his head back and laughed. “I do have magic. Your right, but there’s only one problem with this, Rafael.” 

“What is that?” 

“All the magic in the world won’t save me from my personal life.” He grumbled and groaned. Rafael chuckled richly, sending small vibrations across his skin. “Jean-Claude has a habit of moving at the pace of a Cheetah while I am still a turtle back at the starting line looking around with confusion and wondering what the hell is going on in that mind of his to think I am remotely appealing.” 

Rafael shook his head. “I do believe, Harry, that you think far too much. Do as you wish. It would be fun to see a Master of the City earn his medal.” As Harry snickered, Rafael lowered his cup thoughtfully. “Do not tell him I said that.” 

“Only if you don’t tell him what I’ve said. He would take it and use it to make me turn candy apple red, and then laugh at me.” 

Rafael grinned, making his handsome face look all the more striking. “Agreed.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years dear readers! 
> 
> Still a few hours for us on the west coast but since most of the world is now in 2020 and Bittersweet is now, we thought we should post. :)

He fixed a quick dinner for him and Rafael, and he didn’t bother to change his clothes as he went to wash up. Rafael had been given a quick tour of the place, and his expression when he discovered some of the moving portraits had been hilarious. 

He had taken to staring at one in particular with his arms crossed. He had thought it was an optical illusion until Harry told him about the rather live portraits of witches and wizards. He was currently watching one that looked like a bunch of trolls getting dance lessons in tutus. Yes, it was a recreation of the one from Hogwarts. 

He spent time explaining the portraits on the drive, Rafael liked Harry’s car. He had taken to driving it and taking Harry’s keys the moment he pulled them out of his pocket, leaving his Chevy truck back at Harry’s. Harry had taken Rafael’s words to heart, the very idea of making Jean-Claude work for it. Although, Harry wasn’t sure that he understood what Jean-Claude was going to work for fully. But it might be fun to send that damning vampire around the bend like he had Harry. 

But, he couldn’t just leave him alone completely. He would at least show himself tonight. To remind Jean-Claude that he was around, and was willing, but he had to pick up a phone. Not that Harry had been home much to answer it; but that wasn’t the point. 

Rafael liked to ask questions. He was interested in Harry’s world, and so he regaled him with innocent stories. Ones that wouldn’t have him looking at Harry as though he were an alien. He didn’t need that from anyone he called friend. He did mention Draco and how they became friends, and how his old friends didn’t like what he had become. 

“Sometimes, childhood friends need to stay in your past. It is not your fault or their fault. It simply is,” said Rafael. 

“You’re right. I was a naive child who followed when I could, lead when it mattered, and stayed in the background trying to hide from things far bigger and older than me. You like children don’t you?” 

“I have a son,” admitted Rafael keeping his eyes on the road. 

“Really? How old?” 

“Eight.” 

“Teddy is six! If he’s in town they should get together.” Rafael’s eyes flashed with sadness, and Harry winced. “Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume…” 

“You didn’t, Harry,” he said with a lower voice than normal. “It would be nice to grant your request. I like hearing about your godson. But, I am afraid I am unable to.” Harry was too afraid he’d step over the line by asking why, and so he didn’t. But, then Rafael stepped over it for him. “I married a woman who insisted she was okay with my condition. We had a son, but not long after she decided that she couldn’t handle it. We divorced, and she has made it so that every time I come around, he wants less and less to do with me. He’s terrified, and I can only see him twice a year. Supervised visitation.” 

“How awful. Teddy’s father was a werewolf. I make sure to always talk about Remus. He had the biggest heart out of all of them. Even bigger than my father who could be a pompous prat at times.” 

Rafael looked over at Harry. “Rat and wolf lycanthropy is contagious, more so than the other strains. If you have either they look at you as though you are an AIDS victim.” 

“You’re only a victim if you don’t accept your beast right?” 

Rafael nodded. “Correct. If you can master it, then the disease becomes a way of life. I was born as a wererat. My son doesn’t have it. I am thankful for that.” 

“Teddy doesn’t have it, but he experiences full moons with restlessness and insomnia. He likes his meat a little less done. Sorry about your son. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” 

Rafael smirked. “You hardly know me.” 

“We talk just about every night. I think I know enough. Besides, I pride myself on good instincts. I hated Draco then, but I adore the git now.” Rafael chuckled. “Even if he is an overgrown man-child.” 

The Circus of the Damned was lit up and full to capacity being Saturday night. Harry had never actually been inside the main area where all the entertainment was held. 

“So glad we’re not going to Guilty Pleasures,” sighed Harry causing Rafael to chuckle. 

“If you keep up the blushing he’s just going to push harder.” 

“I know that!” Harry whined. “But, what am I supposed to do? You know, this is all Jean-Claude’s fault!” he scowled causing Rafael’s broad shoulders to shake. “I never look either way, and was very good at the game of avoidance.” 

“Are you not interested in men?” asked Rafael curiously. 

“No, I am.” Harry felt the back of his neck tingle as though someone were watching. He wouldn’t doubt it. “I definitely am. I had one girlfriend, I was sixteen and it didn’t go anywhere. I realized that I wanted her family not her.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Her family was huge. They were good to me, and treated me as one of their own. I’d never had that before. For years I’ve been avoiding romances as much as I could.” 

“Why?” 

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because I don’t understand why anyone would even look at me different, let alone like me.” He said no more feeling a bit strange as he slipped out of the car. Rafael let the conversation go as they crossed the lot toward the sounds of cheerful laughter, a few screams, and carnival like music. 

Just like Guilty Pleasures, a human employee asked Harry if he had any holy items, but he shook his head. She stepped aside with a hesitant smile, Harry had no idea why she kept looking at Rafael strange. Once they were passed, Rafael rolled his eyes. 

“You will find that not many like the company of Rats.” 

“Their loss, my gain.” 

Harry got his first look at an indoor circus created by vampires. “Teddy would love this place,” he said while gazing around at all the sights. Brightly colored tents, the smell of popcorn and cotton candy. 

“You don’t think he’d be frightened?” he asked as several teenage girls shrieked when a half-shifted leopard with auburn fur came upon them. 

“Not at all. He’d probably feel at home, and then pick a few people to mess with.” 

“Mess with?” 

Harry grinned. “He has a particular talent that if he wanted to, he could look exactly like you. Except smaller.” 

Rafael’s lips twitched. “You must explain that to me later.” 

“Definitely. If Teddy ever meets Jean-Claude I don’t want to give all my tricks away. So mum’s the word!” 

Chuckling, Rafael gently placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You got it. As long as I’m there to see whatever happens. I have a feeling that with you around things will not be boring.” He veered Harry through the various rooms and stage acts. 

Harry recognized one of the Wererats standing in front of a blood red curtain. She was tall, taller than Rafael, and had long black hair and a no-nonsense, but rather pretty face. Her name was Claudia, and she was often Rafael’s right hand when Lillian was unavailable. 

“Rom.” she bowed her head with respect, and looked at Harry. “So, the little witch comes?” 

“Claudia.” Rafael frowned. 

“Sorry. Just trying to get used to the change,” she said eyeing Harry suspiciously. “He’s been waiting,” said Claudia with a daunting stare. “For days for his servant to show. You shouldn’t keep the master waiting.” 

“If he knew how to pick up a phone maybe I would have been here sooner,” Harry added as she stepped aside to let them through. 

Harry quietly snapped his fingers, and Rafael looked away with eyes that were laughing when her hair turned a shocking hot pink. “Have a good night, Claudia.” He beamed and swept through the curtain. 

“You should not have done that.” Once behind the curtain, Rafael was shamelessly grinning. 

A pulse flickered like a fire in the pit of his stomach, and it began to grow. He was feeling rather cheeky, and Rafael was standing there so tall and dark. It was like the man was illuminated all of a sudden. “Done what?” 

“Unfortunately, I am unable to provide proof of your  _ Mischief _ .” 

“If you could, would you punish me?”

Rafael stared at him. “Do you need punishing?” 

“Let me get back to you on that.” He turned away trying to get a hold of whatever it was that had him acting strange. He decided to blame the atmosphere. 

Rafael held open a heavy black door that was made of metal and a series of tight spiral stairs hugging the stone wall leading further down. “Careful with the steps.” He said coming up behind Harry.

“They look new.” 

“They are. This was not here before.” 

“I’m surprised, there’s only one guard at the entrance?” 

“Tomorrow the door and lock will be installed,” he told Harry. “He’s done a lot of refurbishing.”

“I can imagine.” 

They spiraled further down with only a flicker of torchlight to guide them before they reached the bottom. The space was all concrete with a strong steel door that had a wallet size plate in front of it. Rafael tapped three times, and the plate opened briefly so that all he saw was a pair of flat blue eyes. 

“Open the damn door, Willie,” grunted Rafael, and the flap shut again and the door was opened to reveal a vampire that Harry had seen before, but only once. He was a short skinny fellow with the oddest fashion sense. His hair was slicked back and black. He seemed to have a compulsive twitch where his head would move at odd times. He had a thin sallow face with a nose that matched. 

“So, you’re the human? A little small aren’t ya?” he asked flashing his fangs. “I’d have expected a pretty voluptuous woman, but nah, master chooses a boy.” 

Harry didn’t so much as react to the ferret like man, because silently he agreed with Willie. Rafael was moving toward him, and while Harry couldn’t see his face, one large hand pressed to the vampire’s chest and pushed him hard. 

“Do keep quiet. You have no cause to be talking to him in such a way.” 

Stumbling back, Willie held up his hands in surrender. “Hey now, Rat King, chill, chill. I didn’t mean anything by it! He is kind of cute, for a boy,” he smirked lasciviously. “And far nicer than the other Animators I’ve met. Master is through there!” 

Harry was already sporting a headache. Is this what things were going to be like every time he came around? He was used to being judged, but something about all of this rankled him. 

Harry could take insults. He’d lived with them all his life, so why did he have this sudden need to defend himself? He didn’t know. 

He crossed the small blank entry way to another door. Geez, how many doors does this place have? Harry never said a word to Willie, and Rafael stayed between them. Rafael was always like that, the one time they’d been to a restaurant he kept stepping between Harry and others if they got too close. He supposed it was paranoia of some sort or an animal instinct. Or something purely alpha. He was looking forward to learning more about lycanthropes, and their various nuances. Maybe it could help him with Teddy when the boy had those episodes.

Finally, they entered a room that was more familiar. It was once home to a throne, and plenty of stuffed toys and porcelain dolls. None of that remained, instead the room looked partially like the dreams he’d had. All the high stone walls were covered in white tapestries and a soft plush carpet was beneath his feet. He wondered if he should take off his shoes. 

All the furniture was a rather classic white with some black and a smattering of royal purple. No one could say that Jean-Claude didn’t go all out. It reminded him a little of the vampire’s office in JC Corporation. Hundreds of candles lined various surfaces, all were white and lit making the ceiling look like diamonds cascading down. Yeah, so very Jean-Claude. 

A couple of vampires that he didn’t know were seated around various areas, and then there were those who weren’t vampires. He wasn’t sure if they were lycanthropes or not, but they were all looking at him as if he was apart of the Circus and they were the humans come to guak. It reminded him of the first time he entered the Leaky Cauldron. Hagrid audaciously announced who he was, and the crowd went wild. Except this was just staring. Luckily, Rafael seemed to be a great buffer. His stern maybe slightly arrogant expression had a few of them keeping back. 

He didn’t flinch when he heard someone murmur. “Well, at least he’s pretty.” 

“He really killed Nikolaos? He’s so small… I fear I might break him.” 

“I was there, I saw it,” said one that Harry did recognize as part of the wererat crew that helped get them through. 

“Don’t you  _ girls _ have something else better to do than gossip where we can hear you?” Rafael drawled. “Harry go on through that door.” 

_ Please Merlin let it not be the vampire’s bedroom. _ If he saw a four poster large bed and silk sheets he was going to apparate to Timbuktu and hide. 

His stomach felt as if it had taken to doing exercise, and all the shepherd's pie he’d had earlier that evening was being tossed around. His skin became prickly, and he did his best to hide the blood pressure that was jacking up. 

“Thanks a bunch, Rafael!” Harry put on his most stunning smile. He silently braced himself and then pushed.

The last thing he heard from Rafael was;  _ “He is a friend to all Wererats do not forget it. A slight against him is a slight against us.” _

It wasn’t the bedroom. Instead was a room that had been converted into a smaller living space. More like a den than a living area. It too was covered with candles, white decor with soft tufted seats. It was lowly lit with only a sparkly candelabra in the corner. Four doors in each corner lead to other rooms. 

“ _ Mon belle,  _ you have been avoiding me,” Harry’s blood rushed at the sultry velvet voice that flowed. He turned to see Jean-Claude exiting a room, and was it him or did he look more healthy and glowy like than usual?

Jean-Claude, Master Vampire of the City of St. Louis and whatever that entailed, glided like a cat toward him. 

A familiar warm current floated between them, and became an odd buzz that tickled his ear. The shirt that was oh-so white hung loose and long with full sleeves made tight at the wrist by three-buttoned cuffs. He always had the front open revealing the perfection of his toned body and his six foot frame. His legs looked like they went on forever, hugged by black leather trousers with criss-crossed openings up the sides, showing flesh and teasing anyone who dared look at him. 

No other vampire could compare to his beauty. His heavy deep eyelids, glowing that midnight fire. His face chiseled and perfect, high cheekbones, and there was nothing feminine about him. He was all masculine, and how he did it with such a delicate set of features was beyond him. His curls were soft looking and perfectly black, and they bounced around his face. 

What the hell could he offer a vampire like this aside from his wand? How could Jean-Claude ever think he was something special when he looked in the mirror every day? Is this how Bill felt when he fell for Fleur and then had his face scarred by Fenrir?

But, then again, Bill Weasley didn’t have seventeen years of abuse and being kicked while down. To Harry, he was still a beautiful man even after the scars. He was still the same cool rocker Bill Weasley who had a cool job that Hermione didn’t think he could ever do because he wasn’t smart enough. 

“I have not been avoiding you, Jean,” somewhere beneath the trenches of Harry’s silent self-loathing he managed a perfect voice as he spun to face the vampire. 

Jean-Claude’s perfect face was well controlled, but Harry could taste the energy and power on the tip of his tongue, and through the mark or something he could feel a small fire brewing as the man stared at him so thoroughly. Eyes roaming over every inch of him. 

“What do you call it then, mon belle?” He asked turning course for the sofa. “Please sit. You and I must converse on where to go next.” 

“...” Harry didn’t like this formality one bit. He wanted the Jean-Claude that he first met back, not this cold and emotionless man. He thought about Rafael’s words on making Jean-Claude work for it. “No, I think I’m going to leave.” 

Before he could even take a step, Jean-Claude was on him so fast that Harry did flinch, and flinch hard when cool palms cupped his cheeks. “What is going on in that precious mind of yours, mon belle? What has you eluding and evading me? What have I done to cause your ire to brew?” He was forced to look up at Jean-Claude’s face. 

He was close, so damn close Harry could hardly stand it. His skin was suddenly ablaze with a sandpaper like quality. His tongue felt twisted, and his breathing became sharp and jagged. “I can only handle one cold bastard in my life at a time, Jean-Claude.” 

“I thought that was what you preferred.” 

“What are you talking about? You know better than that!” Harry pushed against Jean-Claude only to not be able to move him. “You ask what is wrong with me, but what’s wrong with you? I want you to be you, Jean-Claude.” 

“I have not changed because I have changed roles, mon belle. I am simply making an inference from some of the things I heard, mon belle. I hear things, mon belle. I hear a lot of things now that I am Master of the City. My human servant playing with assassins, ones who hunt us.” 

“The same man  _ you _ hired to kill Nikolaos,” Harry hissed. 

“I know about the last job you did with him, the house in which Valentine escaped. Your name might have been absconded from the record, but your description was spot on.” 

“Valentine was a pedophile rapist who raped Phillip before he was thirteen!” Harry hissed. “Yes, I have assisted Edward in killing vampires. I’ve even killed a few lycanthropes  _ and _ humans. I do not discriminate against races, Jean. You know that. But, I never - ever touch anyone who I feel is innocent. He knows that.” 

“You never told me any of this.” 

“How? When? And are you going to tell me that you don’t kill humans? You’ve never killed a human - an innocent in all your centuries of living?” Harry threw at him, and Jean-Claude dropped his hands at his side and stared at him. “Edward was and is my teacher. He is the one who taught me how to survive after a war I never wanted to be in. I was a child soldier, Jean-Claude!” 

“Mon belle....” Jean-Claude started only for Harry to cut him off. 

“I was a baby and because a filthy bastard couldn’t kill me like he did my entire family and hundreds of others, I was set on a path for the rest of my life. I have to have a place to channel my rage. Just as you have to have a place to channel whatever it is that’s going on with you.” 

“How do you know what is going on with me? You never ask.” 

“You’re centuries old. I don’t need to ask. Edward is Edward. I mean absolutely nothing to him,” Harry said in the coldest tone he could muster that drew Jean-Claude’s eyes so that they locked together. “He’s using me like everyone else has used me all my life. I’m okay with that because that’s not how I feel.” 

“How do you feel, mon belle? I wish to hear all.” 

“You should know how I feel. I care about my friends, I hold them so dear to my heart that it hurts to see them suffer. Nothing else matters when you’re my friend. You mean the world to me. You and Edward both.” 

“And Rafael?” 

“He’s there too.” 

“Yes, I can see his fondness. His interest in you.” 

“He’s a good guy. I follow my instincts, Jean. It’s all I can do. I don’t know how to do anything else. I don’t know how to live.” 

Jean-Claude moved right then, gathering Harry into his arms, and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head. “I do believe that is enough for now, mon belle. Let’s not overwhelm each other right now. Come, please, I have missed you so very much. I do apologize for the iciness I have felt. It has been a whirlwind few weeks.” 

Harry let the man lead him to the sofa, the low lights flickering and casting magnanimous shadows along the wall. He could make shadow puppets, he thought staring at the shadow of Jean-Claude as it moved, even the shadow had such a graceful quality. 

“I have never had anyone resist me before.” He sat down beside Harry. 

“I’m not resisting so much as I am moving at a slower pace. You are a vampire, I am a human. You go fast, and I go turtle slow.” 

Jean-Claude chuckled richly. “You really are precious, I have felt dislodged, and maybe it’s because you have not been around. It’s these marks I believe. I have never had a human servant. I have never marked anyone in all my centuries.” 

“I don’t mean to be distant, and making you look bad,” said Harry. “I told you I’d help where I could, and I mean it.” He brushed his fingers along the lace circled around Jean-Claude’s wrist. 

He had a longing to touch Jean-Claude, get closer, but he didn’t so much as budge. If he did everything he had an inclination to do, then the world would end. He shivered slightly when Jean-Claude dropped his arm from its rest position, and his fingers laced between Harry’s. 

“How are you doing as Master of the City?” 

“Mostly cleaning house, consolidating my power, and pulling the remnants of Nikolaos’ poison out of the community. It has not been pretty. I also did some remodeling.” 

“It’s much nicer,” Harry agreed looking around at all the interesting bits. He squeaked when Jean-Claude took their laced hands and tugged him. He swallowed nervously when he ended up half on top of Jean-Claude. ”Hm?” 

“Your eyes, do they come from your mother or your father?” 

“Mother. I look exactly like my father, but with her eyes.” 

“I see,” said Jean-Claude untangling their fingers and sweeping a touch across his cheek bone. “Do you not know what I want from you?” 

Harry gulped. “Uhm, no. I don’t.”

“I will not request that you remain distant from those you hold in your heart, but I do request that whatever you choose to do with your others, you choose to do with me too.” 

“... Eh?” Harry leaned back, eyes wide. “What do you think I’ve done, Jean?” 

Jean-Claude didn’t answer him, and instead took to staring at him. “Allowing another man’s hands on you…” 

“Oi! Hold up!” Harry untangled himself and straightened. “You think I’ve had sex with Edward?” He was trying not to choke that out. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t you? It is only natural.” 

Harry squawked, and he threw himself off the sofa. “No!” 

“But, mon belle, I have heard-” 

“I don’t care what you’ve heard, Jean-Claude…” Harry took a deep breath. “Okay,” He rubbed at his temples to try and brace himself. “I’m going to say this for the record.” He then threw up a silencing spell around the room in case there were listeners. “It’s only for your ears. I’m a virgin.” 

Jean-Claude’s eyes widened. “Non!” 

“Yes. Last month was the first time I ever even kissed a man, and that was because I had to make a distraction with Zachary watching Edward and me from the woods. He was stalking me, and that was the only thing I could do to get close enough to him to tell him what was going on. Yes, I enjoyed it, and he ended up getting me off, but I was entirely clothed. Not to mention confused and not understanding what the hell had happened. Back at that odd party we did nothing. He took me to the laundry room and we mussed up our hair, rubbed just enough so that it looked like he was inspecting me for bites you left on me. Yes, he teased me a bit, but that was as far as it went. I never even knew desire until I met  _ you _ for Merlin’s sake!” 

“You desire me?” Jean-Claude’s smile was one that Harry hadn’t ever seen, so bright and illuminating that it made the candles look dim. He was up in a flash making Harry stagger backwards. “Do you truly?” 

Harry let out a noise. “How can you not tell? My blood rushes in your presence!” He moved like a dancer right then, his eyes burning brighter. Harry squeaked and held up his hands. “ _ No _ , no what are you doing? This is not a dream where you can try and ravish me!” 

“Non, this is a reality, mon belle. You are mien. Do you hear me? You are mien, and while I will give you permission to play with others so long as they are not vampires, you will forever belong to moi, do you understand? You can have your Rat and Assassin.” 

Harry squeaked when he ended up against the soft white tapestry of the stone wall, Jean-Claude had him pinned on either side, and he let out a tiny noise when the man’s mouth began to glide along his ear and down his neck. 

His eyes rolled, and the world began to still as Jean-Claude’s mouth curled around his chin. “J-J-Jean-Claude…!” 

“ _ Oui, _ keep saying my name, mon belle. You have made me a happy man tonight, delicious…” He licked at Harry’s skin, tasting the salt and flavor. 

Harry’s heart thumped hard and fast, and then he was lost when Jean-Claude traced his jaw. A hand tilting his chin so that they were locked into a soft earth-shattering kiss that filled every part of him with an unearthly desire. Harry couldn’t resist, and he opened upon command, and allowed Jean-Claude to drink him in. 

Edward’s kisses had been hot and sweltering. He barely reacted to Harry’s advances, but Jean-Claude was smooth like velvet, and richer than chocolate. He was bespelled, moving in tandem, flushed to Jean-Claude’s perfect chest, his fingers coiling between the soft shiny curls. 

He sucked against Jean-Claude’s tongue hungrily, and he tried with all his might to sink what he felt into the master vampire. He wanted to convey that Jean-Claude was important, that he was too much for Harry all at once. He was lost, falling with Jean-Claude to the nearest sofa, straddling the man’s lap, and kissing him so passionately that he forced a moan out of his vampire.

For some reason, this perfect vampire not only desired him, but Harry felt somewhere deep inside that he was needed. He felt as if something was pouring out of him, and he sank it with tongue sucking kisses into Jean-Claude who held onto him tight as if fearing what would happen the second he let go. 

He was needed unlike anyone had ever needed him. 

Jean-Claude was a strong all powerful Master of a City, and yet he needed little Harry Potter who was nothing to anyone. 

He didn’t understand it, but maybe he didn’t have to. At least not yet. 

“Mon belle…” moaned Jean-Claude, full of arousal and sexual need. “You jump from zero to a hundred.” 

“S...sorry?” Harry was shaken, a tap inside of him was dripping with an astonishing amount of something he couldn’t put words to. 

“Please, jump further, mon belle, but now hearing your sweet innocent words, I must be the one to stop us. I cannot suck all the lust out of you on this night. It would be wrong. Although resisting a small taste is unavoidable for a man like me. It’s as potent as blood.” 

He nuzzled at Jean-Claude’s neck causing the man to groan as he tilted his head back, hair falling to one side. “I’m not letting you have me tonight. I’m not that sedated, Jean,” his voice had gone soft and low, full of a newfound desire that was unleashing around him. 

“You tease me, mon belle. You have a hint of the power that rests beneath my body. I can taste it, and feel it. You do not understand this power yet.”

“I am aware of it,” Harry brought his mouth to the man’s cheek and kissed softly. “I was scared of it. I  _ am  _ scared of it,” he corrected. 

“You shouldn’t be. You should embrace it, mon belle. I tasted you - you are unusual - something beneath it that sings a different tune. You are going to make it your own once the marks are completed.” Harry shivered when Jean-Claude’s hands slid beneath his shirt and grazed his skin causing prickles and tingling bumps to appear. “Such sensitivity… so soft. You are perfect, mon belle. I wish to gaze upon you further like this, your cheeks flushed with blood.” 

Harry tried to shake his head only to be brought back to Jean-Claude’s perfect mouth, and the spell cast swooped over them once again. He was tilted, and soon on his back as Jean-Claude laid over top of him. Harry’s fingers danced up the vampire’s perfect chest, teasing at his neck and exploring the muscle and contours of his chest. Never having truly touched a man, Harry was left listless as he curled a hand around the back of Jean-Claude’s neck, locking his hips between his thighs. 

“I feel as though you are feeding me, what is inside of you that makes you taste such?” 

Harry was already burning enough. He didn’t need more romantic gestures or compliments or what have you. He was completely swept away, and if this man didn’t stop he was going to spontaneously combust. “H-how am I to know? I don’t make it a habit to taste myself.” 

“You should, I bet you are delicious,” Jean-Claude growled leaving Harry’s swollen lips and burying his nose into his neck. “Such delicate skin.” He raked up Harry’s chest with a near urgency, and he swept back down palming him as the heat of his body gathered, the rush of his blood. 

Jean-Claude could hear and feel it, and watching this precious creature had him in awe. Every taste was hungering, and he felt as if he was being fed Harry’s lust, but he had pulled back the ardeur. He hadn’t wanted to affect him in such a way, especially an unspoiled purity. 

God of all, Harry was a sight. He lay beneath Jean-Claude with heavy breaths, gentle touches that were exploring and fascinated. Emerald eyes dripping with a real passion. He wasn’t overtaken by Jean-Claude’s ardeur. Instead, it was Jean-Claude being overtaken by Harry. 

He was such an intriguing little cat. He needed to get control. He could not rush them. Non, it would be much more pleasurable to take it slow. For Harry to be able to resist him and feed him something at the same time. 

He was almost satisfied, and that was only with a taste. A single taste, drawing Harry’s lust in just enough but he hadn’t fed anything back to him. For the first time in years, his ardeur was agreeable and manageable. 

He couldn’t believe that Harry did not see himself the way Jean-Claude saw him. He was slim and young, both of those were true. But it was more than that. His rich aura and demeanor made him naturally graceful. The heart that beat beneath his chest always reached out, drawing others near. 

He saw the affection hidden on Rafael’s face. He saw the glee and the controlled spark in the sociopathic Edward. Both men were drawn to Harry much in the same way that Jean-Claude was. Phillip had been too, but for very different reasons. Instead of Jean-Claude having been his protector, Harry became the protector, and Phillip happily died to protect Harry. Harry had a true soul, one that could not be marred, and Jean-Claude wished to suck it out of his sweet lips. 

Many men and many women came and went from his bed, not lately as he had thought it would be unscrupulous to do such. He fed when he could on the lust in Guilty Pleasures, but he kept his hands where they belonged and refused many bodies ready and waiting to sate the Master of the City. 

He could not fault Harry for his attentions on the human and lycanthrope. He was unsure and curious. Jean-Claude was neither unsure nor curious, and until Harry was on the same page as he was there was no way he could consider taking another to his bed. 

Not until Harry’s comfort was up. His knowledge of all things sex and desire were more sound. And definitely not until the younger man knew for a fact that Jean-Claude chose him because he not only desired Harry, but he wanted Harry with him at his side. 

Yes, he was strong. But, Jean-Claude hadn’t known just how strong until the second mark flared, and he saw Harry against Nikolaos, the strength he exuded, the power that he clenched tight with the same control that Jean-Claude held on his own. It was a perfect match. He thought he understood his once lover, Asher a bit more. How he felt when Julianna was ripped from him. 

It was why he had risked himself. It was why he had unbound the chains, and slid effortlessly between Nikolaos and Harry. He had been willing to take it, because losing Harry meant losing what Asher had lost. It was no wonder Asher despised everything about Jean-Claude. How could he not have known that all this time Harry wasn’t resisting him because he didn’t like him? He was resisting because he was scared. He had no idea where he was going or what he was doing. 

He avoided Jean-Claude because Jean-Claude had left him alone. Harry was waiting all this time for him to make the move. Well, Jean-Claude was not going to wait again. 

“Let’s breathe together, mon belle, and slow our progress,” he managed to get out, taking a gulp of Harry’s scent and taste with him as he pulled back. Harry dropped his arm, his eyes wider than usual and they glowed with something strong. An aura that swirled beneath him. His chest rising and falling. He truly was the perfect fit. “It seems that I need to teach you what it truly means to belong to me, mon belle.” He pet Harry’s wild hair, enjoying the way it lay in an untamed fashion. He had insisted that not even magic could keep it down, and Jean-Claude would like to think that this rang true for Harry too. He was like his hair. Untamable, and yet at the same time full of wonder. “Promise me one thing, mon belle.” 

“Hm?” Harry’s eyes fluttered, his long black lashes sometimes tickling at his cheek. 

“You will let me have you.” 

“Uhm, you are on top of me,” Harry pointed out dryly. 

Jean-Claude laughed heartily. “Oui, I am. But, you must promise me. Edward gave you your first kiss, but I want your first everything else…” 

“Edward and I aren’t like that, Jean-Claude, and yes, I promise.” 

“Do you wish it were so? Do you wish you could have Edward?” 

“...” 

“Be honest, I will not be upset, mon belle.” Jean-Claude ran a calming hand down Harry’s thigh where it was still wrapped around him.

“Sort of,” Harry confessed averting his gaze. “I never thought about it until last month. I felt completely safe in his hands, but that would never happen. He doesn’t see me like that. He sees me as an invested interest. If I ever prove that I am too useless or I get in his way, he will kill me, Jean. I have no doubt about that.” 

Jean-Claude didn’t like the sound of that, and he wasn’t sure if he believed it. 

“You and many others ask why I didn’t fear Nikolaos? It’s because I had Edward beside me. I fear him.” 

“You also care about him.” 

“I do. I have always been known to face my fears in someway. Just didn’t know how to face this.” 

Jean-Claude searched his eyes. “And Rafael?” 

“He’s a great friend. I like being around him, but that is all it is.” 

“For now.” 

“Don’t make me nervous!” Harry whacked him on the shoulder, and Jean-Claude chuckled. “Don’t get me thinking like that. May I ask, why is it you look so much healthier than before?” He asked and Jean-Claude’s heart beat just a touch faster when Harry’s fingers brushed down his cheek. 

“Nikolaos forbade me from feeding much.” The ardeur, he didn’t say aloud. “She was disgusted and nervous by my extra abilities. Although, I was good about hiding it. She was after all part child no matter how vicious, powerful, and old she was. What she didn’t know, or her servants, wouldn’t hurt her.” 

“If you had you wouldn’t have needed me.” 

“I always need you, mon belle. You are a drug of a different kind.” 

Harry laughed, and was about to ask something else when there was a sudden sharp knock at the door causing Harry to flinch, and Jean-Claude to narrow his eyes. 

“I thought I explicitly told them that once you had arrived to not disturb me.” 

“You are the Master of the City now. Maybe it’s important.” 

Jean-Claude looked down at Harry right into his eyes. “Precious.” He pressed a kiss to the top of the young man’s head before Harry let go of his waist. Jean-Claude stood, and straightened his shirt until it was smooth and ironed out. Harry sat up, cheeks as red as his lips, and hair even more messy. It was fetching to watch him try and temper it down as if he knew what it looked like without needing a mirror. 

He cracked the door to see one of his vampires standing at the door. “Yes, what can I do for you, Grace?” he asked the buxom brunette with honey colored eyes. “I thought I asked not to be disturbed.” 

“You asked us to let you know the moment Richard arrived.” 

“Ah, I did. Merci, Grace. Do go back to your post, and please let the others who are younger and still a bit naive know that Harry belongs to me, and is to be treated with all the respect within you. I will not have him treated any other way than perfection.” 

“Yes, master. Of course!” 

“Good, let Richard know I will be out in a moment.” He snapped the door shut. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” huffed Harry crossing his arms. 

“Oui, I did. How would you like to meet the second in command of the Thronnos Rokke pack of St. Louis? I assure you he is probably one of the more noble and normal of the pack. They are my wolf to call, and I think we can form a spectacular relationship.”

“Okay, but you might want to let them make up their own minds about me. If they start anything I promise I’ll finish it without killing them. I can protect myself, you know this.” 

“You shouldn’t have to. You belong to me, and as Master of the City…” Harry’s finger pressed to his lips, and Jean-Claude almost smiled. “You should not hush a vampire, they might bite.” 

Harry grinned. “I’ll take my chances, besides, I can prove that I have earned my place as your human servant and am more than just a human. If they have something to say, then let them say it; and let me take care of it. I’m supposed to be equal with you, right? Let me show them that I have earned that status.” 

Jean-Claude pulled him close, swooping his arms around Harry and kissing him on the temple. How could he say no to such a request?


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Crime Scene somewhere in the chapter. Just wanted to give you a heads up as it might be a bit on the gory side. You can skim down. I did use the book and some of the bits for reference. But I tried to tone down the description... tried being keyword.

# Chapter Three

There were a lot of people. So much so that Harry couldn’t name them all. Most of them were vampires with a speckle of rat and wolf and a few others in between. He was also aware that he was being constantly sized up by various members. 

Like most these days, Richard was a tall towering gorgeous man with a deep tan complexion. His brown hair was long and tailed into a ponytail. Why hadn’t the modeling agencies of America made their way to St. Louis yet? Harry wondered idly. He would never know Richard was a lycanthrope if he hadn’t been told. He had broad shoulders, and a muscled physique. 

“Richard it is good to see you again,” said Jean-Claude with a slow smile that meant Harry might be witness to a round of seductive manipulation. 

Richard seemed a slight bit uncomfortable especially with the way he was being looked at. “Not sure if I can say the same. Ulfric is eager, but he rarely ever steps out.” 

“Yes, I am aware. Shall we take this conversation to a more comfortable place?” 

Harry remained in the background silently watching, but not offering to introduce himself or interfere in anyway. He wasn’t sure how politics such as these went. 

They ended up in a tasteful looking study that was once a punishment room for encased vampires with crosses wired over their coffins. Harry liked this much better. Richard gazed over at Harry with a line of worry on his handsome face. 

“You’re human,” Richard pointed out. His eyes were warm and gentle as he held out his large hand. 

Harry liked him almost instantly. “Yep. I’m Harry Potter!” he chirped shaking his hand. You could tell a lot by a man’s handshake, and it was strong and firm, but also conveyed warmth. 

“Did you enslave him, Jean-Claude? I didn’t think that was your style,” Richard didn’t look pleased. 

Jean-Claude’s lip twitched. “Always the protector Richard, that is what I like about you. It is why I asked for your presence and not your Ulfric, no insult meant.” Although, he meant every bit of the insult. Marcus and Raina were two wolves that were quite frankly not welcome, but for diplomacy sakes he had to play nice. 

“He hasn’t enslaved me. I’ve been friends with him for years,” Harry offered so that he could ease Richard’s conscience. “I think we might be more, but I really don’t know.” 

Jean-Claude chuckled. “Mon belle, you are mien that is all that matters.” 

“Yeah, well I’m still trying to understand all this vampire courting stuff! It’s way over my head.” 

“Like most things,” Jean-Claude drawled with a sly smile. 

“You really want something thrown at you don’t you?” Harry challenged, and he was surprised when Richard let out a barking laugh. 

Jean-Claude was pleased to see the effect that Harry had on Richard. It’d been one of the many reasons to introduce them. Richard was not Marcus or Raina. He was a boy next door lycanthrope who hated what he was, but that didn’t change his status or his strength. He was exactly the kind of man he was looking for to add to his ranks. He had pride and dignity. Something the community desperately needed. 

He’d spent the last four weeks showing just enough of his real power by destroy a few that were hardcore Nikolaos supporters. They hadn’t believed Jean-Claude had the strength or the power until he made examples of them. Perhaps, it was a good idea that Harry hadn’t been around. He wasn’t sure if the beautiful man was ready for the even darker side. 

Richard Zeeman was a hot blue blooded Alpha werewolf, and nothing would change that. Harry had a sobering effect on a lot of people. He’d seen it on Phillip, and he thought it might work with Richard. He could make use of Richard’s natural protective quality. 

“Have you seen Claudia lately?” Harry asked cheekily. 

“I can’t say that I have seen more than you since you’ve arrived, mon belle. You are a distracting young man.” 

“She has shocking pink hair. She was pretty angry and confused as to how that happened,” said Richard. “I thought she was trying something new.” 

Harry grinned, and Richard leaned forward. “You happened didn’t you?” 

“You have no evidence except for the smile on Rafael’s face.” 

Richard chortled. “Interesting…” He was looking carefully from Jean-Claude to Harry. All three of them were soon sitting down, and Harry learned that Richard was a middle school teacher, and he wanted it to stay that way. He did not want to be found out and then fired because of his condition. 

“What is it you want, Jean-Claude?”

“I would not ask of you anything more than support, Richard. If I have other delegations I would like the attendance of a few of your weres, and maybe you in attendance. I am not Nikolaos,” said Jean-Claude comfortably. “I prefer friends and allies. I wish to build up the community not tear it down. If we are to ever be more accepted by society we need to show our best. You can take some time and look around all I have to offer. Your clan would not only have jobs, but also my protection. I would see to safe passage from the other Masters should they wish to travel. There is a reason I requested _you_ after all.” He gave Richard a pointed look to convey what he meant without telling Harry. 

Richard seemed to understand as he settled back and crossed his arms over his broad chest. He looked at Harry. “How did you and Jean-Claude meet?” 

“I own a lot of property around here. I hadn’t known I owned it until I moved out here,” admitted Harry. “It was by inheritance, and since I made the move I figured it would be a good idea to check out each one. The Black family had their hands in a little bit of everything.” 

“You said your name is Harry Potter?” 

“Yes, it’s got a Black tag, but I’m not a Black by birth. My godfather named me his heir just before he died backed up by some distant wonky relations. No real Blacks left unless you count my friend Draco; but as Sirius, my Godfather, was the last heir, I as his godson get the inheritance by proxy. I come from a different world where bloodlines and godparents actually mean something other than religious reasons. I have the business sense of a worm, and I don’t really need or care about the money involved in rent and all that. I pretty much leave it to Jean-Claude’s discretion so long as he builds the area up for everyone.”

Jean-Claude was proud of Harry, he had not only garnered Richard’s respect, but the Alpha male seemed much more comfortable in Harry’s presence. No surprise. Harry was easy to get along with, always wide-eyed and willing to open his mind. If only more people could see things the way he did. He would have a small sense of worry if it wasn’t for Richard being as straight and rigid as they come. Harry had that effect on people, he was coming to learn. 

“How old are you?” 

Harry smiled, unsurprised by the question. “Twenty four, and I am much more than I look.” 

“I suppose you would have to be,” he said looking from Harry to Jean-Claude. 

“Jean-Claude was my first friend here. He had a few pest issues with Nikolaos and the murdered vampires. I helped out.” 

“You did more than help out mon belle. You single-handedly lead the way to Nikolaos’ end.” 

Harry grumbled. “It was Edward who killed her, not me. I just stopped her from hurting anyone else.” 

“Logistics. It may have been that man’s hand, but it was your passion that drove you to success. A passion that I wish to share with the rest of the community.” 

“I’ll do what I can. I am an Animator, Richard. I am also on retainer with the police department. I don’t have a prejudice against any race or species. I judge a person based on who they are individually.” 

“I see what Rafael meant. I had wondered about why he agreed to an alliance so soon,” said Richard lacing his fingers together. “I can’t offer much without Marcus’ permission, but he has been interested in moving further. He likes spotlight without the hard-work involved. I do have a request…” 

“Oh? Please, name it. I wish to know all your desires so that we can all work in tandem together.” 

Geez, did he have to say it in such a seductive way? Harry thought trying not to laugh as Richard eyed him blankly. Yeah, Jean-Claude was sort of hard to take at first. 

“I have a new member of the pack. Not two years old in werewolf age. I would like to offer him to you.” Harry was confused, and looked at Jean-Claude for clarification. 

“He means Pomme de Sang. Apple of blood, mon belle. Most Masters of the City choose a favorite Pomme for their feeding.” He supposed that made sense. 

“I’d like to get him out from beneath Raina’s clutches.” 

“Hm, I see, but whether I choose to accept or not depends on compatibility as not all potentials and vampires are well matched. I will see to housing and board for your new cub. If he is what I suspect, I am sure he might find interest in Guilty Pleasures.” 

Richard grimaced at the idea, but gave a nod. “It would still be better than the alternative.” 

“Indeed.” Jean-Claude’s life was lust and passion, and there was little he would find disturbing, but Richard and Jean-Claude both agreed that Raina’s money making scheme and perverse sickness could be an extreme that no new cub trying to settle in should be apart of. 

Harry noticed something had transpired between Richard and Jean-Claude. A dark sort of knowledge that they were dancing around. Something the two didn’t approve of, and he’d heard about this Raina before. 

Phillip had mentioned her, and even he looked horrified. Just what kind of person was she? It reminded him of the way Neville looked when he thought of Bellatrix Lestrange. Nothing could be as bad as her, right?

“If you like you can borrow Harry as your correspondence during the day so that your cover is kept.” 

“I can also provide you an extra bonus of security with your job, Richard,” said Harry hoping to help Jean-Claude out. 

“Oh?” Richard looked at him. 

“As you might have suspected I am proficient in magic.” 

“After your mentions of Claudia, I had that idea. You’re a witch?” 

Harry shook his head. “I am a wizard. It’s different. A lot different. Your version of witches are little more than showrunners. Let me demonstrate.” He plucked his wand off his belt and the coffee table between them transformed causing Richard to jerk back when he saw that it turned into an alivel pig. He then flicked it again turning it into another animal, and then an armchair. He continued this process until Richard seemed to comprehend exactly what he was doing. It wasn’t an illusion. It was real. Jean-Claude chuckled as Harry returned it to a pig that made noises and moved around. 

“It’s called Transfiguration. One of the many magics of my world. I can do all kinds of interesting things, including making people forget certain information or aspects even exist. If someone happens to find out about your condition. I can make them forget. Just, don’t shout it from the rooftops and make it so it ends up on CNN because then you’re on your own. I’m good, but I’m not that good.” 

Richard laughed as Harry flicked his wand ending the transformations. “Can you pull a rabbit out of a hat?” 

“Probably, but not all my magic is as harmless as transforming objects into a furry animal. In fact, if I wanted to, I could probably turn _you_ into a rabbit and then add a permanent charm to keep you that way.” He smiled causing Richard to laugh, despite how horrifying that would be. 

“I can imagine. If what you say is true, and the witches I’ve known are little more than entertainment, then I wouldn’t be surprised if there was more you could do.” He rolled all of this over in his mind, and nodded. 

Richard was more than fine having Harry as the correspondence, and it wasn’t long before Jean-Claude had a list of wolves who were not only interested in work, but in dire need of it to feed themselves. 

Richard didn’t stay long after exchanging information with Harry so they could reach each other. As quick as he was in, he made his exit causing Jean-Claude to hum. “I think that went well, what do you think?” 

“I don’t know. I guess so? He seems alright.” 

“Richard is a complicated man, but a good man as far as humanity goes. He wishes to be normal more than anything.” 

“Normal is relative,” said Harry. “You are what you are, and changing that might not make you happy. I did normal for six months, I was forced to be normal for eleven years. It didn’t really work.” 

Jean-Claude chuckled. “Indeed. I suppose everyone’s idea of normal is different to them.” 

Harry hadn’t planned to stay very long. His meeting with Harold Gaynor had admittedly taken a lot out on him. Jean-Claude wished to introduce him to others, and Harry went ahead with it, figuring that getting it over with now would be better for him. 

All eyes were on them as soon as they left the office. He could feel Rafael watching carefully. Harry flashed him a small nod and a smile as Jean-Claude introduced him as Harry Potter. 

“It is because of him that we have been able to make headway over the years in turning Riverfront into a real home. He’s been working with JC Corporation.” 

“He’s also a witch right?” asked a long blonde haired man with a really handsome face. He had sky blue eyes. Harry learned that his name was Robert. He was a dancer at Guilty Pleasures. 

“Actually, I am a wizard. It is much different to your known witches,” said Harry. 

“What is the difference? You play with magic. Isn’t it all the same?” asked one of the females in the room who didn’t seem to like him much. 

“It’s very different. Your witches use the magic of the earth. I have it inside of me. In my blood.” 

“I’d like to confirm that,” said a tall gangly vampire baring his teeth. 

“You can sure try and find out exactly what my blood can do,” said Harry just as easily. 

“I heard it was toxic.” 

“Maybe.” He smiled innocently, which threw the room off. All of them looked to Jean-Claude to see him watching the byplay, curious but not interfering. 

He was well aware that each vampire he gazed at directly in the eyes was attempting to roll him. He could feel the enchantment caress at the edges. Harry merely raised a brow causing one of the older vampires to back down. 

Jean-Claude was amused. “You will never be able to roll or enchant him. Not even Nikolaos could.” That drew attention, and he was being looked at oddly now. “He is my human servant. I expect you to treat him well.” 

He finally saw a vampire he recognized, Buzz had only joined the room and smirked at Harry. “Good evening Harry. It’s nice to see you here.” 

Harry beamed. “You too Buzz, someone else watching the club?” 

“Mhmm.” 

That was when Claudia stalked through the room, violent pink hair swinging causing Rafael to quietly chuckle as she walked right up to him, finger pointed downward toward his nose. “Fix my hair!”

Harry flashed her his most innocent look causing a few snickers to erupt. Even Jean-Claude was holding a hand to his mouth slightly. 

“What’s wrong with your hair?” Harry asked innocently.

“You damn well know what’s wrong with my hair little witch!” 

Harry chuckled, shoulders shaking. “You know, Miss Claudia if you really want me to do something you could ask nicely, and not call me a witch.” 

Claudia glowered. “I don’t have to take this from you, pipsqueak! I want my hair back to normal!” 

“It looks rather nice,” said Robert leaning forward. “It’s hard to get all one bright color from the salon.” 

“Shut up you!” 

Harry snapped his fingers, and the hot pink transformed into a lurid neon green causing an uproar of laughter around the room. She let out a noise cross between a squeal and a growl. He then changed it again to all colors of the rainbow. Several vampires were actually wheezing they were laughing so hard. 

Claudia was looking at herself in one of the many mirrors in the room with wild eyes. At first, she looked furious, but then her lip twitched. “Please change it back?” she asked through gritted teeth. 

“What color was it again?” He snapped his fingers, and she had platinum blonde hair causing several men to swoon and whistle. 

“Save money on hair color.” 

_“And_ your nose hairs,” added a wererat. 

Harry finally ended the spell, and she was back to a silky raven black much like his own except hers actually laid flat and tame. 

“Hmph!” 

“Next time it might be your clothes. So watch out with the witch term. Have none of you ever heard of the magical world?” Harry then asked crossing his arms. He got a series of head shakes, surprising him. “Wow, that is - shocking. I guess two decades isn’t enough. Or it’s all muddled together with what you term a witch.” 

“What is the magical world?” 

Harry thought about how best to say it so that he wasn’t spending all night long giving a lecture. He pulled out his moleskin pouch, and opened it. He was stared at wildly when he put his arm in a pulled out a very large old tattered book. He set it on the table and then used his wand to duplicate it at least six or seven times. “If you’re into light reading have at it.” He was surprised when several moved with real curiosity to take one. 

“A History of Magic?” 

“You can make a fortune selling books!” Willie was even curious as he took one. 

“That was before the Anti-Copyright spells. That’s an older book, but it is linked to the newer ones so it is self-updating.” 

“Self updating?” asked Buzz who had been one of the first to look at it. 

“You might get to the end and in a year or so may realize that a whole new chapter has been made. It’s not everything, but it should give you a good idea. In Europe witches and wizards hide, thanks to Henry the VIII who ruined our only chance of being magically free.” 

“What do you mean by that?” asked Rafael curiously. 

“Anne of Boleyn was what we call a squib. She was born from magical blood, but had none herself. If she’d had a male heir there would be a magical on the throne.” 

“She had Elizabeth,” said one of the wererats. 

“She was a squib too. It’s an anomaly, and you’ll learn that the other way around can happen. A completely normal couple can have a magical child. How it happens no one knows, there is a theory about replenished blood, but who knows? I left because not only is animating illegal but any word breathed about Necromancy has a chance to see you imprisoned or a death sentence. Add in the fact that my family had property here, and it made the most sense for me to move.” 

Jean-Claude remained in the background as Harry had been grabbed and put in the middle of his most curious vampires and weres asking him questions left and right. Even Claudia who never took to new people well was listening, several flipping through the large book that Harry had presented. 

“I do hope you treat him well,” breathed Rafael quietly. 

“Why ever would I do different, mon Roi? You and I both know good when we see it. Even Richard was taken by him.” 

“Which was your entire plan was it not?” 

“Yes,” he said shamelessly. “Are you any different? Imagine what we can accomplish in our lives with someone so strong willed and naturally kind as him?” 

“Is he prepared for your world? That is my question,” Jean-Claude was impressed with Rafael’s intense questioning. He suspected that there might be more going on with Rafael than he originally thought. “I have no doubt he would fight for you. I have no doubt he would sacrifice everything for you. But what are you going to do to protect him from that side? A side he’s never seen before.” 

“Why mon Roi, why do you think I have you and Richard around? I also have plans on inviting certain weres to St. Louis in exchange for freedoms and protection. I have thought long and hard about this long before Nikolaos was deposed. Do you not want a community where your rats are not frowned upon?” 

“... A pipe dream.” 

“Not so with the right passion. What is the point of being a Master of the City if you do not promote change, and inspire others? Power is all well and good, but in the end there is always someone stronger. Something the likes of Nikolaos long forgot, but I will not.”

“We will see,” said Rafael folding his arms and observing everyone actually enjoying Harry’s presence. 

At first they’d been stunned and taken off guard. Here was someone younger than they’d ever seen, so innocent looking. Someone like that couldn’t belong could they? But perhaps they could with the right circumstances. 

Rafael had always prided himself on well honed instincts. On watching carefully, and keeping him and his people away from anyone who would see their downfall. He had his doubts about Jean-Claude, but he hung back and watched close by. He observed Jean-Claude’s politics and the way he dealt with things. He did not jump onto the power train so quickly, and Rafael had no doubt of his power when he saw the man last week deal with an uprising of Nikolaos’ most staunch loyalists. 

Even two of his Rats had been caught with them, and he delegated, asking Rafael what he wanted to do. He was political and savvy, and downright manipulative, and then there was that ardeur. A lust so powerful and addictive it could drive anyone, including the oldest masters, insane. Rafael didn’t know much about the ability, but he’d seen with his own eyes the things it could do. It was a good thing Jean-Claude kept it tightly wrapped up or the entire court would go insane. 

It was coming up on two o’clock in the morning when everyone finally began to migrate to do different things. Harry was resting on the couch as Jean-Claude had to go and deal with something leaving him alone to the underground and to his endless thoughts. 

He was still nervous about being alone with Jean-Claude. He felt as though he had turned into something he didn’t recognize. He’d almost begged Jean-Claude to take him right then in that room, but no amount of want or desire would see him do so. Harry was stronger than that. 

He still didn’t understand half the things he’d seen or was told that night. By now his eyes were swimming. He needed sleep and should probably go. How was Rafael going to get to his truck? Harry would have to take him back for it. 

It was a Sunday, and usually he would stop in at work to see if there was anything for him. Most people didn’t make appointments on Sunday thankfully. It seemed all the good men and women of St. Louis had this thing where Sunday was too holy to talk about raising the dead. 

He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until he awoke to the smell of roses, and something wrapped around him. 

He blinked opened his eyes to the flickering glow of candlelight, and then he stiffened when he saw the four poster bed, and felt the sheets beneath him. 

He better be dressed or he was hexing Jean-Claude! 

“You’ve been asleep for hours mon belle,” said a hum beside him, and he looked over to see Jean-Claude stretched out, perfect as ever. He was wearing a silk blue night-robe, and his eyes were closed with one hand lying across his perfect formation of his stomach. Geez. Harry thought dryly. 

“Where’s Rafael? He came with me.” 

“He has taken the guest room. He has been doing so the last few days. He has offered many of his rats for construction, and some changes.” 

“Oh…” Harry took in a breath and laid back against the pillows. He was trying not to feel uncomfortable or awkward. “What time is it?” 

“About seven in the morning I would assume? At least that was the last I saw.” 

“You can be awake?” 

“I have been able to be awake more and more these days. Sometimes I find myself come alive at five o’ clock and I don’t fall until well after eight. It is the Master of the City’s job to awaken his vampires from their slumber. It is more than a title. A whole lot more. I admit, you lying here beside me has allowed me to truly rest.”

“Truly rest? You have insomnia or something?” 

Jean-Claude smiled prettily. “No. Do you know what happens when we go into our coffins? We do not sleep. We die.” 

He supposed he never did look at a vampire in a coffin long enough. Not even when he was working with Edward; because if he did, he was likely to be killed the moment that vampire heard his breath. 

“The weaker you are, the longer you stay dead. Willie doesn’t often awaken until sometime after eleven if I do not push some of my power through to allow his rising.” 

“Do you ever actually sleep?” 

“I do. For small stretches of time. It is nice to be able to sleep, and not feel like I’m rattling like an old man.” 

“Does my being here help? You know, with the marks?” 

“It does. It gives me something extra.” 

“Like tasting what I’m eating?” 

“Correct.” 

“If you fully marked me - what would happen to you? You would not die?” 

“I do not know. I may be an old vampire, but I am inexperienced when it comes to Human Servants and markings. No matter how much you try, you do not understand until you’ve gotten one.” 

“Why haven’t you chosen one before me? Surely you had offers!” 

“Plenty. You’re very lively for having just awoken.” 

“I’m laying in bed with a vampire, what do you expect? It’s new to me.” 

Jean-Claude chuckled. “You always make me laugh, mon belle. You have a way with words and thoughts. You do not hide them much do you?” 

“I try. I can when I have to. I was taught to mask my thoughts when needed, and an old cranky Professor of mine tried to teach me to shut my mind down from intruders. I suppose I took something away from his shoddy arse lessons after all. Most of my defenses come from someone else.” 

“Oh?” 

“The Dark Lord. His soul was inside of me ever since I was a baby, and though its not there anymore I still retain his magic. His shields and raw power stay inside of me.” 

Jean-Claude opened his eyes and turned to look at Harry. “You shared a soul with your enemy?” 

“Not on purpose and definitely not a pleasant experience,” Harry assured dryly. “It was the whole point of him coming after me.” He explained the mechanics of the killing curse, and what it was meant to do. 

Jean-Claude listened intently. “I see. A terrifying power.” 

“It is. I’d only used that spell all of two times. It makes me feel empty when I do. I used it on Aubrey,” he confessed. 

“And that one spell that seemed to harm Nikolaos?” 

“Cruciatus Curse. It is the torture curse. Pure unrelenting torture without death,” said Harry. “It’s horrible, and that was only the second time I used it. First time I failed because I didn’t mean it. They’re illegal in my world. Called the Unforgivables, and can get you a life sentence in the magical prison.” 

“You named two, what is this third?” 

“Imperius Curse. It’s kind of what you vampires can do with your rolling and mesmerizing. You can control the will of another. It’s how I knew I could never be rolled by you or Nikolaos or anyone. I have a natural defense against it. I’ve only used it once to control a bank teller.” 

“Now I am curious.” 

Harry grinned. “I can’t give all my stories away. You’ll have to ask again at another time.” 

Jean-Claude, with a little too much energy, rolled right on top of Harry who squeaked, his eyes going wide. “Does that mean you will return to me?” 

“...” Harry tried to look away, but Jean-Claude matched his movements, double lashes fluttering at him, smirk in perfect place. Harry wanted to pinch him. So he did, causing Jean-Claude to laugh and press a soft kiss to Harry’s palm and then down his wrist. 

“You smell enchanting, mon belle.” 

“Am I making you hungry?” he asked, preferring to talk about food, even if it was blood, to anything else that you do in bed with another man who is supposed to be your lover or something. 

“Always.” 

Harry was about to give him permission when a series of beeps startled them both. Jean-Claude did not move as Harry reached for his belt and took off the beeper. 

“It’s Dolph, that’s not good,” said Harry. “Do you have a phone?” 

“In the living area. I do not like things ringing in my bedroom.” 

Harry snickered. “Yeah, I can see that. I had no choice but to put it in my room. My house is too big to only have one in the entrance hall. I need to call him. I’m his last resort.” 

“What if I don’t let you up?” 

Harry shifted onto his elbows to stare right into Jean-Claude’s eyes. “How about I promise to return?” He had a second of hesitation before kissing Jean-Claude’s lips softly. 

Of course, nothing with Jean-Claude could stay so simple as he was wrapped in the vampire’s arms, and the soft kissing turned passionate and heavy, making him forget about the beeper until it began to beep again. He flushed when Jean-Claude let out a low snarl. 

“Now, now Jean. I promise to be back so that you can do what you will with me.” 

“Do not leave that wide open, men like me may very well take advantage of it.” 

Harry smiled. “How about I trust you?” 

“Do you, mon belle? Do you trust me?” asked Jean-Claude, curious if he meant it. 

“I think I do.” 

“You think?” 

“Trust is always the hard one.” Jean-Claude agreed with Harry’s words. “I trust that you would never hurt me, intentionally. I think I do trust you.” 

“I promise not to shatter it. My court can get - a bit lively. I do not wish for you to see some of the things I’ve had to do.” 

“Like punishment?” 

“Oui.” 

“I’m made of tougher stuff than that. As long as you’re not going around cross-wiring innocent vampires for dumb stuff. I know that vampires are not humans, and I know that the culture and the rules are different.” 

“You really do try to see with open eyes.” 

“Sometimes they close, but I always make a point in trying to keep them open. Now, you better roll off me before Dolph sends out all his men to hunt me down.” 

“As if they’d ever find you.” 

He had a point, but Jean-Claude did slide gracefully off him. Harry resigned himself to getting out of the too comfortable bed. “Next time you should get more pillows,” he said smirking. 

“Oh really? You are a pillow fiend?” 

“I’m likely to steal yours if I’m around long enough. My whole bed is covered in them.” Harry padded out of the bedroom to the only phone sitting on a cherry oak table. It was old fashioned and a little on the gaudy side. It was rotary. 

He dialed Dolph’s number aware of Rafael coming out fully clothed. 

“Finally, you call back!” 

“Sorry about that Dolph, I was in the basement.” Literally. Rafael smirked as Jean-Claude swept out. “What’s up?” 

“Murder.” 

“So early.” 

“Get here, Harry. It’s bad. It’s messy. I’d suggest you wear dark clothes. Whatever did this isn’t human.” He could hear retching in the background. 

Harry hadn’t realized he paled, but the two men were facing him suddenly. “Give me directions.” Jean-Claude already had the paper and pen, and he quickly scrawled. “I’m about thirty-five to forty minutes out.” 

“Good. We’ll hold the scene for you.” He hung up, and Harry let out a sigh. 

“What is it, mon belle?” 

“He said it’s messy. I heard throwing up, and these are the same guys who saw the dead vampires last month. He said wear dark clothing, but this is all I have right now.” 

“I’ll ride along. You have my truck anyway,” said Rafael looking at Jean-Claude who nodded. 

“Do be careful, mon belle.” He cupped Harry’s cheeks and kissed his forehead. “I should see to having you a wardrobe made if you’re going to be here.” 

“Not with you at the helm alone!” Harry squawked causing Rafael to chortle softly. “I’m not running around half naked, thank you!” 

Jean-Claude’s lip twitched. “I would not do you the dishonor.” 

“Sure, sure. Tell that to the g-string you made me wear to that party. I can still feel it to this day!” His own face was burning at the mocking laughter from Rafael. He smacked the hard man in the chest. “Come on, let’s go before I combust thanks to this vampire!” 

“Do keep your promise, Harry!” 

It took him ten minutes to freshen up, Jean-Claude had a gorgeous new bathroom installed. Once again all black and white with a lot of candles. He may need to have a chat with Jean-Claude. He was no decorator, but there could be a little more color. 

He met Rafael at the door as he was tying his sneakers. Jean-Claude had brought Harry his boots. “I have trainers in the car for such emergencies.” 

“Where are we going?” asked Rafael. 

“St. Charles.” Harry handed Rafael the address, knowing the man would prefer to drive, and Jean-Claude watched as they left out the side-door that went directly to the parking lot. 

Rafael pulled up at the house that Harry specified to see it swarming with cops with a thick band of yellow caution tape. Not only that, but two of them were hunched in the bushes throwing up. 

“You’ll be alright?” he asked settling back with the air conditioner blasting. 

“I hope so,” said Harry already chucking his shoes off, and going for the dark colored trainers he’d learned to wear. “Might be shorter, but if it’s as messy as I was told I don’t want to fall. Be back.” He grabbed his ID from the console, ignoring the gun that rested there as he slipped out. 

He hadn’t even gotten to the white picket fence when the smell from the house wafted into the stagnant air outside. A strong powerful scent of copper, and Harry rolled his neck instinctively as his fingers began to tingle. He got no resistance from anyone, that was how off centered they were, and when he stepped through he knew exactly why. 

The fresh smell of blood hung heavily in the air, splattered on the white walls as if someone had taken fire-engine red paint and tried to make some avant garde art piece. His eyes fell across the sheet that was soaking where it sat over a floral granny style couch. It didn’t help matters that everything was blazing in the summer sun, and the smell of rotten meat, as though it had been baking, made everyone’s gag reflex act out of sorts. 

Harry however could only stare. He’d always been a trooper. He’d always been able to compartmentalize, thank you Edward No-Surname, but this… he’d never seen anything like it. 

He saw that the wall of photographs showed a happy family, and there was a small toddler. 

_Merlin above please no_ , Harry thought feeling his heart start thudding against the cage of his chest. He was careful to pick around the glimmering puddle, and moved closer to the scene. He realized that there wasn’t enough tenting on the sheet to form a whole person. Just bits and pieces. He could handle blood and guts and all that it had to offer; unless it was a child, because then all he saw was Teddy. 

He was so focused on what he was seeing that he really did jump and yelp when hands touched his sides, and he turned to see Zerbrowski smirking. “Not going to faint are you.” Harry must have looked pale. 

“Why because you already have? Was that you throwing up on the phone?” Zerbrowski said not a word, not even his brown eyes were dancing in amusement like they usually did. Harry could read him like a book. “Bad?” 

“Understatement.”

“Where’s Dolph?” 

He pointed to the vaulted ceiling. “Master Bedroom. He’s in a right mood.” 

“Anyone would be.” 

“I wish Katie and I could afford something this nice.” 

“Past tense, Zerbrowski. Even a shack would look like a castle compared to this.” 

“Not wrong.” 

Harry picked his way to the staircase, aware of the blood streaking across the walls as though it had been scratched. One of the detectives came rushing down with a cough. Harry flattened against the wall to let him through. Not a good sign. 

A long hallway was clogged up with more people than necessary. Murmurings about bodies and parts, a few people wincing and gagging. They were professionals, but the RPIT taskforce was relatively new still. Likely most of the police and detectives were beat cops. Only Dolph and Zerbrowski seemed to be the real deal, and Detective Clive. He was a nice guy. Harry was glad that he was not here. 

He found Dolph kneeling on the brown carpet beside a canopied bed. Harry did his best not to look at the frames on the bed-side table or the ones that hung on the wall. The once white sheet on the floor was covered in blood. He feared it was the child at first because he saw a tiny lump beneath it. 

“You ready for this?” Dolph was so stone-faced, and normally he would at least greet Harry with a nod, but this was serious. 

Harry nodded. “Do it.” 

As Harry stepped forward he produced gloves and the carpet squished like a full sponge. He crouched, careful not to get his knees in it this time. At first glance, and if it wasn’t a crime-scene, Harry would have said it was a bloody rump roast, but he saw bone - some small part of a rib was sticking out as he looked at Dolph for permission, and with a cool nod he began to prod and touch it. 

It was soft and yielding. It was human. How a human could be resorted to this, he didn’t know. He’d seen a lot of things in the last few years, but this was beyond anything he could have imagined. 

All that was left was the lump of a shoulder, a bit of rib, and some meat. Not even a vampire could do this kind of damage. Not even a frenzied vampire could do something like this, no way. 

He managed to get Dolph’s help in turning it over to see nothing left of the organs. His mind drew up the idea of a lycanthrope, all the while sending a silent apology to those he knew. It wasn’t a full moon so it couldn’t have frenzied, and even if it had been a lycanthrope, just with a taste for humans, he was sure it would have tried to clean up after itself. It would have eaten everything, leaving nothing behind. 

Maybe. Merlin, this was disgusting. 

“Where is the rest of the body?” he asked before Dolph could ask for his expert opinion. 

“Down the hall to the left. What is your consensus?” 

“Extreme violence. I’d almost say a _hungering_ violence. A flesh eating zombie couldn’t have done it. Something ripped with its bare hands. Nothing mechanical was used. It was pulled apart as though you were ripping beef jerky.” 

“Not a lycanthrope?” 

“No. Not even one on a frenzy. A frenzy doesn’t usually happen unless it’s a full moon. In fact, it’s a new moon. Most weres are at peace right now, even the more violent ones. Also, if a lycanthrope had done something like this they wouldn’t have left anything for us to clean up. I do believe it would have eaten everything.”

“...” 

“Hey, it’s part of their culture.”

“Culture,” Dolph stared at him. “You really need to look into new cultures, Harry.” He jabbed his bloody thumb behind him. “Go check that room.” 

“What am I walking into? Is it worse?” 

“Yes and no.” He looked away with no expression, and Harry sighed as he braced himself. 

Harry’s expression went stony when he saw a soft white bunny applique dangling in front of the door. It was one of those hand-knit appliques. He jumped when Dolph was suddenly standing behind him. He pushed the door open to the softest baby blue room. All of Harry’s mental shields were being put to the test right now. He didn’t want to walk further in. He didn’t want to see any more. 

There was a small white window with curtains that had little yellow ducks and blue rabbits stitched into it. More animal cutouts played along the wall with smiles and cute soft textures. No crib, but a small child’s bed. Someone cared for this child, and he was relieved and a bit terrified when he didn’t see any blood except for one long teddy bear on top of a white dresser drawer. It glinted in the streaming orange sunlight. 

“About two or three? I saw the photographs.” 

“Just about,” said Dolph tightly. 

“Is he downstairs?” 

“No, that is the mother.” 

Harry frowned. “Then where is he?” 

“Missing.” 

Harry folded his lips and leaned forward as if to place his hands on his knees, but then he stopped. His gloves were blood coated. 

Harry walked through the rest of the house with Dolph, stopping downstairs in the kitchen where the point of entry began. First the father, then the mother, and where was the child? He hoped to Merlin that whatever happened, the father died quick. He didn’t share his sentiments with the others, they wouldn’t appreciate it. 

It was a spooky reminder of how his family died, except his monster had an identifiable face and didn’t try to eat his family. 

In the living room, it became apparent that there was more left of the woman than the man. So Harry surmised that it meant the man was first. This woman was second, and what? He took the boy with him alive for a snack? He tried to use his Edward mind to play it through, all the while quiet as Zerbrowski and Dolph stood beside him. 

Harry had enough, and headed out the back through the kitchen. He tugged off his gloves, and tossed them in a passing CSU bag. Lucky officer, she had one of those surgical masks on. 

Finally, he took a deep breath of hot air that swirled down his lungs, no more metal, no more stinging tang on his tongue. He hadn’t actually been grossed out by the blood more than heart-broken over the child.

Dolph and Zerbrowski were already on him. “Well?” 

“Not a flesh eating zombie. Not a ghoul, and definitely not a vampire.” 

“Why not a vampire?” asked Dolph. 

“They can’t digest solid food.” 

“Humans aren’t food,” Zerbrowski reminded. Harry looked at him flatly, and the man realizing his words winced. “That was stupid of me wasn’t it?” 

“Yes.” Dolph and Harry said at the same time. 

“It’s not a lycanthrope there would be trace evidence, not to mention the new moon and being docile. In fact, there is a rumor that during the new moon no lycanthrope is ever contagious. Someone could be using zombies as a murder weapon.” 

“Is that possible?” 

“Oh yeah, if the Animator is strong enough. You bet.” 

“Who could do something like this?” 

“I’m not sure that’s what happened here,” said Harry. “As horrible as this is, I need the boy to know more.” 

Zerbrowski grimaced, and Dolph didn’t look dissuaded in the least. "I know. But who could do it?"

“Bloody hell, I could, but I wouldn't. And nobody I know that could do it would do it."

"Let us decide that," he said. He had gotten his little notebook out, and looked at Harry expectantly. 

Harry frowned at this line of questioning. His mind was already going through possibilities. "You really want me to give you names of friends so you can ask them if they happened to have raised a zombie and sent it to kill these people?"

"Please."

"I don't believe this. All right, me, Manny Rodriguez, Peter Burke, and. . . oh - damn. Never mind on Peter. He’s a bit on the dead side." 

Dolph was looking at Harry with hard suspicion. Jean-Claude had covered for him during the Zachary ordeal. As new Master of the City and to make a point, Jean-Claude had Zachary’s dead body not only touched up, but sent straight to the police officers without a note. They’d found trace blood from at least four different vampires in his Gris-Gris. Harry had to go down and confirm what it was as no one had any idea. But, Dolph had given him odd looks after that. "You sure this is all the names you want to give me? Before I called you, I had two more cases. Each near a cemetery. A set of kissing teenagers, a homeless man that was drunk. All of it was cut and dry and the case closed. But this? There is no cemetery, and there is no logic I can piece together. Every time I think I have a handle on this shit, something new pops up in my face. Give me a name, Harry.” 

Harry stood straight, one name was lingering in the back of his mind, but he would be damned if he gave it to Dolph only to see him and his squad all dead. So, he did what he did best. He lied his arse off. “I’ve given you about all I have. You could try Peter Burke’s brother. I hear he’s coming in for the funeral. I also heard he’s more talented than Peter.” 

Harry didn’t particularly like Peter. He thought of zombies as dead little toys. If he was alive, Harry would definitely say he could have done this, but someone had murdered Peter. In fact, someone murdered him so well that he was unable to speak or even testify. A gun had been taken to the back of his earlobe, shot the brain and the jaw in one swift go. It could be related, Peter was a slimy shit. It seemed that a lot of men named Peter had a bad reputation. 

Harry’s mind was already running in circles. He did not want to go through this again. He’d only heard about her through Manny. He had been told to keep his distance, no matter how many invites she had sent him. She’d sent anyone who had even a shred of talent an invite. She liked to scope them out, see if they could be converted. She was the most powerful Voodoo Priestess in the Midwest. 

Harry managed to lie through the skin of his teeth so that Dolph would believe him. Harry rattled off a few names of weaker Animators if only to deflect the one on on his mind. 

As he was finally let go, he only just remembered that Rafael was waiting for him. Instead of apparating home, he quickly headed back to his car. Surprisingly, he found the man sitting in the driver’s seat reading A History of Magic, and the moment Harry slid in, Rafael snapped his head up. 

“You’re covered in a strong scent of blood. At least three different types,” he said looking Harry over. 

“It was bad,” said Harry weakly as he took off his shoes, and then banished them away from him. He’d get new ones. He tucked his legs in and closed the door as he let out a sigh, the air conditioner was nice, and smelling Rafael’s woodsy scent was even nicer. “Mother and father were eaten alive. Mostly the man, some of the mother…” 

“There is a child?”

Harry looked at him with wide-eyes. “He’s missing. All I saw in his - extremely cute and well loved bedroom - was a teddy bear covered in blood. It was the only trace. I’m going to have nightmares.” 

Rafael stared at Harry who placed a hand over his mouth. “Are you alright?” 

“Blood doesn’t really bother me. It’s the child being taken thing. Hell, I can even handle rump roast people, but children… I hope he’s dead.” 

Rafael inclined his head. “In death you feel no pain.” 

Harry smiled weakly. “Exactly.” 

Rafael closed the book. “I was going to ask if you wanted to get something to eat…” 

“I think I’ll stick with salad, can I ask you to forgo anything roast-beef like?” he asked delicately. 

He couldn’t blame Harry. “Sure. I like chicken anyway.” He started the car, and they headed out. 

A desperate need inched its way through Harry. His skin was crawling as though fire ants had gotten a hold of him, and he kept smelling blood. It wouldn’t go away. He shifted, moving closer to Rafael’s strong frame and proceeded to bury his nose in the man’s shoulder. 

Rafael didn’t show surprise. “Trying to hide the smell up your nose?” 

“Mhmm.” Harry closed his eyes, enjoying the heat that burned through the man’s shirt. It was no wonder he wore open and loose clothing. 

Rafael smirked. “Alright then.” He settled further into the seat, and slung a muscled arm around Harry’s shoulder. 

It was a nice feeling, although it wouldn’t subdue the thoughts he was having about a certain Voodoo Priestess. It looked like he would have his hands full. Harry _hated_ vaudun. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a chapter cause Kimpatsu is feeling extra generous this week ;)

Once home Rafael turned to Harry. “Are you going to be alright?” 

Harry hadn’t said much through lunch, which was a red flag as the young man had a habit of doing his utmost to make Rafael smile or even outright laugh. 

“I guess I do have a judgmental side. I hate vaudun or rather what vaudun represents. It’s all about sacrifice of innocents, and I don’t like it.” 

“No one respectable would,” said Rafael. 

“I didn’t tell the police the full truth. There’s a woman I avoided mentioning, because I knew if I sent them to her, she’d kill them all or worse. I have to march up to that woman and then ask her if she’s raising a zombie to kill innocent families and if she kidnapped a three year old.” Harry hung his head. “I’m not going to have fun with this.” 

“... You shouldn’t have to do any of that, Harry,” he said emphatically. 

Harry wished he could believe that. “I have to. It was bad, Rafael, really bad. It made the vampire murders look like child’s play. Just going to have nightmares, and here I was free of them for so long.”

“I don’t think Jean-Claude would approve of the danger.” 

“Probably not. You going to tell him?” 

“Nah. Let him find out. You can take care of yourself, right?”

Harry nodded. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, Rafael.” 

“What are you thanking me for?” 

“Being my friend!” Harry hugged him around the middle causing Rafael to pet the top of his head. Harry only came to just above his muscled chest. 

“You’re welcome Harry. It is easy to befriend you. If you wish for company you can always call me.” 

“I will! You know I will. But, for now, I’m going to brush up on Vaudun,” he said contritely. 

Rafael soon left, and Harry headed into the house. All the lights magically flickered on when it detected his magical signature. He was still without shoes, and decided that a long hot bath would dampen some of what he was feeling when he heard a noise from the most used drawing room. 

It was the largest of them all, easily able to house at least twenty people and still have room for more. A great big open dark stone fireplace with silver plating encrusted around it was the centerpiece for the room. He saw flames had shot up a brilliant emerald, signaling someone trying to get through. 

Harry pulled his wand, and checked the signature, before tapping a specific stone to remove the shield that prevented just anyone from coming in on the other side or popping their heads into the fire at random. 

At first sight, he had a flashback of Bellatrix Lestrange. He always did. But then the thought eased and he crouched down toward the woman who looked nothing like she did years ago. Once upon a time Andy had long sleek black hair, and those deep heavy lidded Black family eyes that instantly told you where she belonged. She hadn’t looked aged at all, but the death of her entire family had cost her everything. Her hair was now streaked with white stripes, reminding him of a skunk. Her eyes were sunk further, she was thin as if the skin was folded over and stretched too far over her high aristocratic cheekbones. 

“Andy.” 

She looked relieved. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days now!” 

“I’m sorry Andy, it’s been a busy week.” She was aware of his career choice; and while she didn’t approve of it she didn’t lecture him. At one time she probably would have given him a good lecture about how dangerous necromancy tended to be with a plethora of examples of family members going to the deep dark side from overuse. But not now; now she cared for nothing. “Is Teddy alright?” he asked when she said nothing for a few seconds as though she’d forgotten what she was doing. 

“... He is fine. It’s me who isn’t alright. I can’t do it anymore, Harry!” She choked. “I just - I can’t. I can’t look at him anymore. It’s to the point that every time he changes his hair I start to have convulsions. This last time I run away holding in a scream! I can’t do it. Please, you have to take him. I know you’re busy with your life and…” 

Harry clapped his hands together loudly to stop her. “Andy…!” he snapped causing her to snap her sad eyes on him. “You never have to beg me to take my godson.” It was horrible timing though, Harry thought with a deep breath. “I will always take him. You know I’ve wanted him. It was you who got smart with me when I said I was moving.” 

Andy hung her head as best as she could in the fireplace. “I know. I understand why you had to move. Honestly, there is nothing left here for either of us. You lost everyone and I lost everyone. Teddy was all I had… and I know I’m not healthy enough to take care of him. He has so much energy but never gets to use it. I’m not fit.” 

“Where is he right now? He’s not hearing you is he?” 

“No, goodness gracious I’m not that bad yet! He’s napping, and yes I do have a silencing charm around the floo room so that he can’t hear me.” 

“Good.” He hated to be manipulative with Andy, but he had to put it off for at least a day or two. “We have to do this right, Andy. If Teddy so much as gets wind that it’s his fault, it’ll hurt him for life.” She nodded her head in understanding. “You keep him for the rest of today and tomorrow. I’ll get him the day after. You can let him know that I’m lonely without my cuddle buddy. It’ll brighten him up. Letting him know when he wakes up that he will be sent here to live with me.” 

“You’re brilliant, Harry. You really should have had him all along!” 

It wouldn’t be easy with his new life, but he’d make due. Besides, Teddy was so much more important than everything else. He hoped to have the Dominga thing all wrapped up by the time he got there. But, then when did he ever get things that easily? 

Andy soon said good-bye, and Harry let out a deep breath as he cut the connection, and relayered the fireplace with the shield. He always had this nervousness that someone like Hermione or Ron would try and locate him and pop their heads back into his life. He didn’t need that, thank you very much. He had enough to be going on without having meddlesome childhood friends trying to remind him that he had no choices in life. Gah, he got annoyed just thinking about them. 

“Bath, Dominga, and Teddy. All in that order,” he said to himself as he headed upstairs. He would also have to look into schools because the kid needed a life outside of old ladies, men who raise the dead, and stuffy old houses. He was going to be busy, but that was okay. Anything for Teddy. But first, the other stuff. 

Dominga. Before he got in the bath Harry called Manny, who had already been contacted by the police. Manny had shown him the more muggle and non-magical way of raising the dead. He was a lot more kosher, and used to be somewhat of a hunter. Nowhere near Edward’s skill nor was he sociopathic, but he did have a love for action. His wife Rosita on the other hand, hated that part of his job, and so he had to stop or risk losing her. 

Harry didn’t understand why someone would say they were okay with something and then turn around and take it back. Merlin knew if Harry wasn’t alright with vampires, he’d have told Jean-Claude to get lost, no matter how gorgeous he happened to be. 

Manny hadn’t been too comfortable about Dominga. “You didn’t say anything to the police did you?” 

“I know you can’t see me, but do I really look that stupid to you?” 

Manny laughed dryly. “No, I suppose you don’t. I’m glad you didn’t. It makes things difficult. Give me a couple hours. I’m sure I can… _do not tell Rosita_ ,” he added the last bit desperately. 

“You know better Manny, and that works well because after today I need a bath. I’m sorry I had to give your name. It was yours or hers.” 

“Probably safer that you didn’t give her name, so I’ll let you keep throwing me under the bus. I’ll evade the wheels.” 

“Good, thanks a bunch! I owe you one.” 

As they hung up, Harry quickly stripped out of his clothes before he even got to the door. He was good at discarding things while walking. He’d mastered it over the years, coming in at half past six in the morning, mud and dirt trailing after him. Of course, the nitpicky person he was would often have it cleaned the next day. He turned the taps, and set the water to as hot as he could get it. 

He had a lot of thinking to do, especially after last night with Jean-Claude. How could so much be packed in at one time?

He hissed as the heat of the steam swirled around him. He didn’t use bubbles or any of that, and just sighed as his skin prickled and turned a voluminous red. He laid back against the rest at the top of the tub. His feet brushing against against the stopper and drain. 

For a minute, every worry he had on his shoulder had dissolved with the heat. Anyone coming in would not be able to see him, it was so white and stuffy. 

First on his mind was Jean-Claude. 

Harry didn’t have an iota of knowledge about relationships, and he had no one to talk to about them. He didn’t dare go to Draco. It didn’t help that Harry still had a lot of carry over into his adulthood. Maybe he should see a therapist? But, nah, what would he say? It was pointless, and if he got a magical therapist, they’d sell his story to the headlines, confidentiality or not. 

He liked Jean-Claude, and honestly he loved him. He loved all his friends, and took extra care to make sure they knew what they meant to him; because after so long fighting for his life he knew that in a snap they could be gone. Like Sirius, Fred, Tonks, Remus, and then there was Phillip who was the most recent. Harry always tried to treat others the way he had wished to be treated when he was younger, but was never afforded the luxury. He didn’t count Dumbledore in that equation because quite frankly, that man, dead or alive, could suck a toad. 

It was his fault. He could have placed Harry with anyone. Absolutely anyone, but because he didn’t want Harry to be a spoiled little shit, he went the completely opposite route. He did it on purpose to make Harry need him. 

If only Edward had a contract on their heads. Harry wasn’t pure enough not to wish them harm, but he wouldn’t be the one to make that contract. He was a practical Necromancer. Maybe on the gray side. He meant well when it was important. 

He lifted the sponge and slowly began to lather, his mind running obstacle courses. He was on his way to being a full human servant to the most powerful vampire in the city, and that was without the addition of being Master of the City. Harry could live with that. At least, he thought he could. It would take some time. He didn’t like being anyone’s servant, but Jean-Claude had never made him do anything he never truly wished to do. 

It was the other stuff that made him the most confused, and overly warm. It was that sexual allure, the power that Jean-Claude held. No other vampire he’d met had that kind of allure, and it seemed to have somehow integrated into Harry. He found himself drawn even more to a specific kind of man. 

Like Rafael, after all that happened at the house. He had wanted nothing more than to crawl in that man’s lap and stay there until the sun went down. He didn’t want to move. He was sure he hadn’t thought like that before, but then since he’d been marked Harry hadn’t seen anything so borderline traumatizing. 

So, sexuality was Jean-Claude’s power, and he feasted on it like blood. He could live with that. It wasn’t a horrible thing. Harry loved the feeling, but he was so unused to it. 

He scrubbed his feet extra hard. Even though they’d stuffed inside trainers, that blood soaked carpet was disgusting. He had no problems with blood itself. He’d seen enough to not be phased. It was the idea that a family of three with a little boy had been slaughtered. It was reminiscent of what Voldemort had done to his family. 

It bugged him. He wanted to find that child, and he didn’t want that child to be alive. He would be tortured if he’d seen what had happened, even at three years old because things like that left an imprint. An imprint that would haunt forever. Harry should know. 

Now, onto the case and dealing with Dominga. If Harry was right and she had something to do with it, he could just outright kill her. But, what if she had witnesses? He’d have to take care of them too. It would be messy. An Edward kind of messy. 

He did appreciate Jean-Claude’s insight last night. He hadn’t glared or looked disgusted when Harry confessed that he had feelings for Edward. He looked more intrigued, and while he had been initially put off, he seemed more open. So long as it wasn’t another vampire. 

So, polyamorous was a normal thing? He supposed it would be to centuries old vampires. Harry didn’t think he could do what others did. He couldn’t take a random man and have sex with them. Sure, he’d probably enjoy it, but he’d constantly be thinking too much. He’d be worried, and then what if that man turned out to be someone Harry hated? 

_‘It’s why you fuck them, and not talk to them,’_ Edward would probably tell him. 

In the magical world, polyamory was laughable. It didn’t happen, and a lot of the non-magical world it was the same. He supposed there were different cultures, and Harry could understand, especially lycanthropes. It was their nature and in their culture. 

Jean-Claude had said he could have Rafael and Edward, as though Harry would in the end choose all of them. How would he know? Harry’s face burned like the water. He held his breath and slid beneath the water to get all the soapy suds off him. He remained beneath the trenches of hot water letting it burn and roll across him as he continued to digest all the newfound feelings. He’d gone a bit woozy from simply being kissed. Surely, others didn’t do that to. 

Whatever Jean-Claude might have transferred over one of the marks, had left Harry with a need that sometimes reared its head. A need that a stranger would not satitate in the least. 

He came up for air after about two minutes, and shook himself like a dog. He raked his fingers through his hair, and bowed his head, the water dripped off his nose and formed rings in the water below. 

He could try to not be embarrassed and let himself go and see where that took him, but he felt as if he was a rabbit hopping into a den of wolves ready to be ripped apart. _He could try_ , he thought for the second time. Just embrace what Jean-Claude gave him, and hope it went well. He drew his knees to his chest, the room around him was almost white with steam. 

It wasn’t like he was a prude or asexual. It was simply he had no opportunity, and didn’t have anyone close enough to fulfill those desires. Draco didn’t count because Harry was not attracted to him. 

He soon pulled the plug when his fingers began to wrinkle. He stood as the drain made a gulp sound, and he grabbed a puffy green towel. 

Next on his list was Teddy. He had been wanting Teddy to come live with him for some time, but Andy had been trying to hold onto what she had left tightly. Harry knew she wasn’t in the right place to take care of him. But, now he would be living here. It meant that he would be exposed to Harry’s life. 

“I _need_ a baby-sitter,” he said to the empty room. He wiped the mirror of the fog, and stared at the reflection looking back at him. 

He ran a brush only once through his black hair, and even when soaked it laid at all ends. His eyes seemed brighter than usual. The Deathly Hallows symbol was resting on his neck. He was glad that it hadn’t burned or cause Jean-Claude any distress. Maybe he should invest in platinum? It wouldn’t hurt Jean-Claude. Did Rafael tell him it was glowing once? He hadn’t noticed it. He shrugged. It wasn’t like it was a holy object. Not really. 

He dressed in a pair of loose green pajama bottoms, and forewent the shirt as he made to lay down and wait for Manny, but he didn’t need to because the phone was ringing the second he sat on the bed. 

“Hello?” 

“Perfect timing?” 

“Just got out. Any luck?” 

“She wants to meet you.” 

“When?” 

“Seven o’ clock.” 

“In the morning?” 

“Yes. Are you sure about this Harry?” 

“Positive. If the police can’t do this, then I have to. A child was involved, Manny. I can’t let this go.” 

Manny sighed heavily. “Understandable. It’s just - you may learn some things about me tomorrow that you will hate.” 

“... You know that’s impossible, Manny. I could never hate you and whatever is in your past cannot be changed. It’s also made you who you are today.” 

“You think so? You always try to see the good in people. Just remember Harry, not everyone is good.” 

“Oh, don’t I know it? But, it does me and you no good to be shoving a past in your face, and demanding you to explain to me.” 

“You’re one of a kind, Harry. I’ll come get you tomorrow, okay?” 

“Alright. I’ll be waiting. You still like your coffee milky?” 

“You know it!” 

Harry hung the phone up, and flopped backwards into the bed. It looked like he would be seeing a woman about a dog. In a rather literal sense. He should sleep now because when Teddy came there might not be much sleep to get. But, he did like the idea of taking Teddy to the Circus, the kid would love it! 

oOo

He was up before the chickens, not that he had chickens. He’d slept way too long. It wasn’t usual he’d sleep more than five hours, and so a good around the clock sleeping had him feeling like one of his zombies. 

He didn’t think much about what to wear, and simply chose black tailored hip-hugging slacks, his usual belt with an arsenal hidden beneath an invisibility charm, and a snug dark green shirt with an open white short-sleeve button down over top. He stuffed his feet into the ankle boots that he was coming to enjoy wearing as it made him about five seven, and a lot less shrimpy. 

He’d never have the broad shoulders that men like Jean-Claude, Rafael, or even Edward had. Although, Edward was on the more normal side. He wasn’t striking nor could make a person go, _‘oh wow.’_ But, he had a presence about him that filled the room to a suffocating crescendo. His eyes would always be watching, completely devoid of any emotion or thought. Harry had a feeling that Edward didn’t think. At least, think about himself. He simply did, and if he was an accomplished legilimens he was sure that looking in Edward’s brain and finding out about him would result in a brick wall or a dead-space. It was like his thoughts had no substance, his mind was invisible. 

Just like Death. 

Harry was already downstairs seeing to breakfast even if Rosita probably already fed Manny. She was the sweet homemaker with a fiery temper, and a bit on the jealous side. Harry thanked goodness he wasn’t a woman because she would hate him or try to make him get married. She still thought he should get married, male or female, it didn’t matter so long as he found his second half. It had taken her a while to come to terms with the fact that he did like men, but she was never rude or weird about it like some of the others had been. 

Jamison, one of his co-workers still gave him odd looks, and seemed to wonder if Harry was going to hit on him. No thanks, Jamison, _I have enough men in my life all of a sudden, and you don’t even register._

He heard Manny pull up. Nowhere near as quiet as Edward, and used his magic to open the door for him. He heard Manny laugh. 

“Is that you’re way of greeting your old mentor?” asked Manny through the Entrance Hall and soon he popped in his head into the kitchen. 

“Do you want charcoal eggs?” 

“Eating breakfast twice, how did I get so lucky?” Manny grinned. 

Manny Rodriguez stood in the doorway, and Harry was pleased to see that he was, for once, an inch taller than the man. Yay for him! It was the boots, what could he say? His coal-black hair was streaked with grey and white, and it fell in thick waves that framed his thin face. He had a thin black mustache, and was all of fifty-two. 

“I hope you can. I don’t like eating alone or in front of others.” Harry slid him the perfect eggs along with a piping hot cup of coffee. 

“At least I can tell Rosita that you do take care of yourself and despite how skinny you are, that you eat well.” 

“Most of the time,” said Harry sitting across from the grinning man. “You’re excited aren’t you?” It’d been a couple of years since Manny got any action of the violent kind, that was when he ended up in a hospital, and Rosita had put her foot down. 

“Don’t tell-” 

“ _Rosita_ , got it! Cheers!” Harry held up his cup of coffee and then drank it down. 

Manny was still smiling. “I have to say you do make the best eggs, and no I won’t repeat myself.” 

Harry sighed and placed his mug down. “Thanks for coming with me.” 

He shrugged. “I couldn’t let you go see that devil woman alone could I? You are still my student, and I’d be a fool to let you go off alone.” 

“She that bad? I know about the rumors, and I did brush up on my Vaudun.” 

Manny looked at him blankly. “You don’t use guns much, but are you taking one?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“It won’t be enough. You better be ready with that magic of yours. If you’re not faster than her, we’re done for. She has bodyguards everywhere. She has eyes everywhere. You can say that her entire block and the next few after belong to her in every way possible.” 

“I bet she’s charming,” Harry said dryly. 

“It’s not funny,” but Manny did smile. “She is actually. She can get under your skin fast.” 

“Like a parasite. I don’t know if I have a potion on hand for that, but who knows?” 

“How are you going to approach the question of raising a killer zombie?” 

Harry shrugged. “I don’t really see a choice, Manny. I need to get to the bottom of it, and find this thing quick.” 

“Por favor, Señora Salvador, did you raise a killer zombie recently?” 

Harry looked at him dryly. “I’m not Mexican. I think it’d be rude to use that term, right?” 

“Just go with Madam,” said Manny smirking. “But that is my point. Anyway you put it will come off as rude.” 

“Well, then blunt is probably best.” 

“Faster at getting out of there at least.” 

"A nice thought." He drained his coffee mug of the remnants, and raked out what was left. 

"We better go. Don't want to keep the Señora waiting."

“Just leave it.” Harry waved his hand causing everything to pile nice and neatly in the sink. 

Harry noticed Manny twitching ever so slightly. He was playing with his gold watch, pushing it around and around as they headed out into the unusually dry morning. “Something you’re not telling me, Manny?” 

Manny groaned. “I hate it when you do that.” 

“Just tell me.” 

"Honest Mexican, I don't know nuthin',” he said holding his hands up in surrender. 

"Then what's wrong?"

Manny bit his lip. "You know I was vaudun before Rosita converted me to pure Christianity."

Harry nodded. He wasn’t Christian, but he was thankful that Rosita got Manny out of vaudun. It was like Dark Magic, only Dark Magic wasn’t inherently evil. It was simply addicting, and when used wrong it was evil. Anything was evil if used wrong. "Yeah, so?"

"Dominga Salvador was not just my priestess. She was my lover,” He confessed. 

Harry rolled that over in his mind, and he looked at Manny who seemed to be expecting a tongue lashing. “I see. It’s no wonder you could get us a meeting so quick.” 

“It doesn’t bother you?” 

“Why? It’s your life Manny. I’m glad you got out of Vaudun. I’m glad you chose to of your own accord. I wouldn’t be so bothered about it if I didn’t know how nasty it was. I’m a wizard who has dabbled in most of the arts, particularly dark magic which is addicting enough. Vaudun takes that dark magic and changes it.” 

“It also changes the person,” said Manny morosely. 

Harry gently placed a hand on the man’s arm. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing you say will have me ashamed of you, Manny.” 

Manny couldn’t help but smile. Harry slid into the passenger seat of the silver Range Rover, and buckled himself. Manny started the car and blasted some much needed air conditioning before the weather could get dryer. 

Neither of them had reason to talk much on the drive, Harry felt kind of guilty about dragging Manny’s past back to him. “If I’d had known…” 

“You’d have gone alone,” said Manny looking at Harry. “I know you, Harry.”

“I guess you do.” 

Edward didn’t care much for Manny, but he’d been invaluable during the vampire nest hunt where they met Valentine for the first time. Manny taught him more about Animating, and Edward had taken the vampire hunting aspect of his training. The two of them combined to make him who he is today. 

Only source of contention were the vampires themselves. Harry had refused several times to join anyone on a hunt just because it was a vampire. He had to have proof or evidence that they no longer deserved to live. Just like humans. 

Manny didn’t like the human part of Harry’s thoughts either. But as much as Harry liked Manny, he wasn’t put here in St. Louis to have his decisions ripped from him. Jean-Claude was not up for discussion to anyone. And no matter how scared he tended to get about the whole sexual part of the relationship, Harry was not about to turn tail and run. He wouldn’t leave Jean-Claude unless it was the man’s express wishes. If his decisions turned out to be one gigantic mistake, then Harry would own it because at least they were his own. 

Salvador lived on a rather homely street. All the houses a touch different and one faced, meaning they had the door in the middle, an awning on the top, two little windows in perfect symmetry, and clapboard siding usually in white, cream, or brown. It wasn’t suburbia that was for sure, and Manny soon turned into a house right behind a gleaming Impala. 

A little girl was riding her tricycle, and Harry’s mind flashed back to the teddy bear as he watched her ride over the sidewalk chalk in front of Salvador’s house. At first, it looked like children’s drawings, but it wasn’t. Manny did say she had followers and eyes everywhere. A pair of those eyes were already staring at them. A hulking gleaming tan skinned man in a bright blue shirt stretched over his physique. 

Harry waited for Manny to get out first, and then followed immediately behind. He wasn’t scared or anything. Just being respectful. It was best to watch Manny to see how he acted, and try to use that same thread to get what he needed. 

“ _Buenos dias, Antonio_! You’ve grown,” Manny greeted. 

“Sí.” 

“Is Señora in?” 

“Sí. She has requested that I allow you through,” he said coldly. 

“She is a wise woman.” 

Harry stood at Manny’s shoulder. He wasn’t one to hide away, and Antonio’s eyes were already raking him over. “Who is this?” 

“Harry Potter. He was a student of mine,” said Manny. He clasped Harry’s shoulder in what he must have thought was a friendly gesture. Antonio didn’t seem so friendly. 

“Cheers, sir.” 

Antonio didn’t blink at his thick accent. Instead, he was staring Harry up and down as if memorizing every detail. He said something to Manny in Spanish. Harry could only pick up small words like, boy toy and the like. 

Manny hissed something back and soon enough Antonio was patting him down, having called him Manuel. Harry stood there not speaking as Antonio searched Manny, and then turned to Harry, once again sizing him up and nodded when he didn’t see anything. It wouldn’t have helped anyway. 

That was when a second man came to the screen door. He was in his late forties, maybe. He was wearing a white undershirt with a plaid shirt unbuttoned over it. The sleeves were folded back as far as they'd go. Sweat stood out on his forehead. His black hair had a pure white streak just over the forehead. "What is taking so long, Antonio?" His voice was thick and held an accent.

"I searched him for weapons."

The older man nodded. "She is ready to see you both." He looked at Harry once, and then discarded him as anything useful. Antonio on the other hand seemed like he couldn’t stop staring. Harry wished he would. It was unnerving. 

Antonio stood to one side, taking up his post on the porch once more. Harry tried not to stiffen or flinch when the man raked a hand down his back. He smirked at Harry who stared at him with all the look of an innocent deer. Manny growled and yanked Harry’s arm pulling him into a homely living room that would not look out of place on the television. 

It was well lived in, a wooden box with children’s toys was against a wall. The living room was spacious, with a dining-room set taking up the left-hand side. There was also a wall piano in the living room. Once upon a time Petunia tried to send Dudley to lessons. They had even bought him a keyboard. Two days later, Dudley threw the keyboard at the tutor, and they blamed him for it. 

_Yeah._

Harry followed the man through a short hallway into a roomy kitchen. He could see well worn and scratched black and white tile going up and around the appliances for a backsplash. Looked as though it had been a while since it’d been cleaned. 

Harry however was not too focused on the copper based pans piled in the sink, because sitting in the kitchen at the wooden table was a woman in her early sixties. Her thin brown face was wrinkled, and it contrasted against the white hair that was tied in a bun at the nape of her neck. She sat very straight in her chair, thin-boned hands folded on the tabletop. Harry knew better than to believe she was harmless, but then no one really was were they? Maybe he was judging too harshly because of the child he kept seeing in his sleep clutching a bloody stuffed toy, and crying out for his mother who would never come. 

She smiled and held out her hands. Manny stepped forward and took the offering, brushing his lips on her knuckles. "It is good to see you, Manuel." Her voice was rich, and though she’d like to try to sound like Jean-Claude there was no mistaking that she did not. 

"And you, Dominga." He released her hands and sat across from her.

She then turned to Harry. Her eyes had a deadened quality as she raked him up and down. “Well, well, well, who would have guessed the Boy Who Lived would walk through my door?” 

_Bloody Hell._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to Co-Writer Kimpatsu and Edward! <3

A smirk grew on her feeble face, and he knew that the expressionless mask that Edward taught him had failed. He had flinched at the moniker that he hadn’t heard once since he’d been in St. Louis. 

Harry could feel Manny looking at him and at Salvador as the two of them stared at each other. Dominga folded her arms perfectly across her chest. “Heir to the Black Family through a disinherited Godfather no less. Yes, I know all about you, child. Abuela Salvador sees and hears all.” 

“I’m sorry, you know that term?” 

“Of course I do. You are the one who defeated the Dark Lord of Europe. How I was surprised when I found out that  _ the _ Harry Potter, the icon of the hidden world of magic was a  _ Necromancer _ . I had a feeling you would come to me eventually, Harry Potter,” she purred as she sat down. “Please sit.” 

Harry was trying to keep his breathing steady, and he was pleased that his movements were all natural as he gracefully moved from the doorway. He didn’t flinch when Antonio pushed his chair in as if he thought it was a gentleman thing to do. 

Manny looked at Harry. “What is she talking about?” 

“You know I come from a magical world, Manny,” said Harry never taking his eyes off the old bat. 

“Yes. You mentioned that.” 

“There was a war. I played a part, and that was all.” 

“That was all?” Salvador threw her head back and laughed. It was like a deep cackle going through a tube. “No, Manuel, the boy at your side has transcended the boundaries of life and death. He was the hand that slayed the most powerful Dark Lord of the century.” 

“Are you a witch?” Harry asked boldly. 

“Not in that sense. My family comes from a very long line of squibs, but we were able to hone our powers using vaudun. It is close - so very close that it tickles through our blood. I am no different to you who was born with it.” 

Hardly, Harry thought. 

“Did you ever wonder why you have not aged, child? Why you are still the embodiment of a seventeen year old at twenty-three?” 

“Puberty was never nice to me,” said Harry trying to avert the conversation. He didn’t want to hear it or want to know. She was really unsettling him. He wished Edward was here to put a hole through her head. “I age slow. Always have.” 

“Did it occur to you that the magic unleashed over you not once, but twice may have frozen that soul of yours?” How the hell did she know so much? Harry wondered. “It made it so that you were momentarily a still-born in your baby body.” Just her saying the word baby made it feel like Rita Skeeter’s acid green nails scratching down his back. He hated it, and he stamped down the shiver that wanted to leak out. “And then you die again, only to return. You have no idea what you have Manuel. But,  _ you  _ knew none of this.” She directed that last part toward Harry. 

Harry needed to change gears. He needed to get back on track. “I suppose that would make a lot of sense. It might also be why Lord Voldemort left me everything in his will.” 

Her eyes narrowed at this. “You? He left you everything?” 

“Mhmm. He drew up a will, and he left it all to me. Everything. I had a good conversation with him, even in death it doesn’t stop chatter does it?” 

He had hit a nerve, and he wondered why. He looked into her eyes, so black like the Vaudun Priestess that she was, they were set back in her face like a skeleton. She stared at him without blinking as if trying to see through him. He used all the Occlumency to draw up shields so strong around his mind. Everything inside of him went very still, blank. No thoughts. 

“Hold out your hand, child. I wish to test something.” She turned over her bone thin palm, and Harry knowing what touch could do to a person never took his gaze from her eyes. “I assure you it won’t hurt.” 

“It’s not the pain that makes me cautious.” 

“Señora…” 

“Hush, Manuel,” she ordered not looking at him. “It is not often I have a true  _ blooded _ wizard sitting in my kitchen, and Harry Potter no less. Your hand, niño, and once I have it I will answer the questions you arrived for.” 

Harry reached out his hand, still keeping his mind as blank as a white canvas. He placed it on top of hers, and the moment he did, her eyes widened, and she shot her hand back as though she’d been stung. She curled it toward her chest as though he broke it. 

Harry kept his hand hovered where hers had been. “Is something the matter?” he asked. 

“I’m alright Enzo,” she said as the smaller man with the white shirt rushed to her side. She placed her hands down below the table. 

Harry had no idea what he had done, but she was now almost hunched, eyeing him with scrutiny. What had she gleamed from that? “You have no idea do you?” 

“No.” Might as well be honest. 

“How many dead have you raised, niño?” 

“A lot.” 

“A rough figure?” 

“More than a thousand.” 

“How many in a night can you raise?” 

“Three to five. I am looking for a missing child. He’s three. Do you know if he is alive or dead?” 

She leaned forward, keeping her hands hidden from him. She pressed her flat chest against her wrists that were on the table. “You should be able to answer that one on your own,” she replied. “But, no.” 

“Have you raised any zombies for murder?” He was through with her. He wanted to go, and go yesterday. 

“No.” 

“No revenge?” 

“None.” 

“Do you know anyone who has?” asked Harry. 

“Maybe. I can ask around. No one will talk to you. But, they will answer to me.” Harry was satisfied, he highly doubted that he would hear anything more from her. He turned to Manny to tell him they were going. “Does that not satisfy you? What is that glint in your eyes? Disgust for doing what you do every day?” 

“No. I do not have disgust for you. I don’t even know you,” said Harry, and then he placed his palms flat on the table and he stood slowly. He leaned closer, ignoring the draw of Manny’s breath. A thick hot sensation rolled through him, a power that reminded him of when he faced Nikolaos and Zachary. It washed through the room causing the three men nearby to draw back. Salvador kept still staring into his eyes. “I don’t care what you’ve done. I’m no different in a lot of ways. I do not throw stones, but when children are turned into pieces of meat I take things seriously, and Death does not appreciate collecting them before they are ready.” At that same time, the chain around his neck flickered out of his shirt, and her eyes were drawn to it. Harry looked down to see it glowing. His own breaths deep and ragged. He gazed up at her to see her reaching out for it only for him to draw away.  It clinked on its chain. 

As the power began to fade, Salvador smiled at him. “You are a very interesting niño, Harry Potter. I’d like to learn more about you.” 

_ Hell no! _ Harry thought feeling exhaustion through every bone in his body. He wanted to collapse on the floor and have a nice nap, but the place was way too filthy for his tastes. Not to mention the way Antonio was staring at him. 

“Looks like you might not be so far away from me,” said Salvador. “I’d like to show you something, one more test if you don’t mind.” It was like the last five seconds never happened. 

He saw Manny flinch. “No! Absolutely not, Dominga!” 

“Hush now, Manuel. It is not your choice to make.” She turned to Harry. “I promise to do everything I can to help you catch this killer, if you will join me in the basement. I assure you, no harm will come to you while down there.” 

Harry might be weary, but he wasn’t afraid of her. Not anymore. She was just an old crone to him. An old brittle crone with little life left inside of her. She was wasting away into nothingness, and that was because the Vaudun she dived into for so long was killing her. 

It was killing her much in the same way that Voldemort had been dying. She would not make it, and Harry didn’t know how he knew this. He just did. She was dying. How she was going to die was beyond him. But, if she was willing to help then perhaps he would be able to set this child to rest. Harry knew he was dead, but deserved a real rest. 

Dominga smiled. "Let us go downstairs."

"May I speak with Harry alone, Señora, por favor?" Manny requested. He laid his hand on Harry’s arm, tightening its grip, fearful of Harry obliging the woman’s request. 

"You will have the rest of this beautiful day to talk to him, Manuel. But I have only this short time.”

It really was a dumb offer. Harry could probably find out everything from here, and he doubted the sincerity of the woman’s words. She was as much of a liar as her eyes were black. Just like her soul. 

She walked around the table and took Manny's arm. He jumped like she'd struck him. She pulled him away. "No harm will come to him. He knows that. You do not realize what this niño is capable of."  Enzo shifted uncomfortably at this. 

Manny was still look at Salvador as if wanted to plead with her. Harry had to stop this. "I do not trust you, Dominga."

“And you shouldn’t. Tell me Harry has he influenced you in the ways of Christianity yet?” she asked, spitting the word Christianity as if it was foul. 

“No. I have no religion, but I respect others. So long as it doesn’t hurt the innocent,” said Harry comfortably. 

“Better than I could have hoped for,” she said looking him over. She had the palm that he had touched her with hidden from view. Harry was really curious now. Domingo began to walk away, her back to him. Harry could shoot a spell right now. He could end her life, but since she was already dying he decided to wait it out.

He followed as Manny made a noise. “Harry, please be careful.” 

Harry turned to look at the withdrawn expression on Manny’s face. “It’s okay, Manny.” He placed a palm on the top of his hand, much like he did Salvidor. He hadn’t meant for anything to happen, but Manny’s shoulders relaxed, his eyes got a bit wide. 

“I trust you. It’s her that you can’t trust.” 

“Trust has nothing to do with finding a child who needs to rest, and finding a killer who needs  _ punished _ .” Harry noticed Antonio shivering at the last bit. 

He turned on his heel, and made his way toward the elderly woman. Did she have any idea that her days were numbered? It wasn’t like he could see it over her head, but he could feel it. As if Death was slowly wrapping around her. It wasn’t a good death either. It was a dark death. A death that she might very well deserve. 

Now, Harry couldn’t help but wonder what his own death would be like? Did it matter? Not at all. 

He felt as though he were entering the Chamber of Secrets, the basement steps were steep and narrow. It was almost entirely black except for one lightbulb swinging from a ceiling that had pipes running across wood. 

He wasn’t sure what he would find, and so he called his magic to the surface. He had a low-level fireball ready on his tongue should the woman try anything. 

Manny was right behind him with Enzo making up the caboose. They were submerged in almost complete darkness. Harry wiggled his fingers slightly flaring a bit of magic to his eyes so that he could see. 

The area had a faint smell of rotten apples like Zachary used to wear as a masked perfume. Always sweet, always sour, and a bit sickly. He veered around a rock wall. Manny was breathing softly behind him, one palm flat on the small of his back. 

The problem with vaudun combined with necromancy was the horcrux like mentality it took on. Vaudun was a power that was not earned. It was not a power that came naturally. It darkened and put strain on the soul. It left stains and wounds. A dark power could be controlled, but when combined with vaudun it amplified that dark power, and the practitioner becomes little more than a drug addict and a slave. It consumed them bit by bit until there was nothing left but a husk of a person. 

As they reached the bottom of the steps, the light above began to burn a little better. However, Harry kept the glow on his eyes as they took a narrow rocky path that looked as though it’d been patched multiple times. A few boarded up doors, and the sounds of scuttling followed them down the passage. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were zombies beyond these doors. In fact, he knew they were. 

There was something old and groaning behind a shiny gold lock. Harry could hear and smell it, but didn’t ask what it was. It wasn’t like he’d get an answer. It might have been animal raised from the dead. 

Enzo, who was behind him and Manny, took a deep shuddering breath. It was as if he wanted to tell them to hurry. Manny was still touching Harry’s back, the basement was much bigger than most basements. He thought it might have stretched over to at least one of the houses. 

Finally they broke through to a large white-walled chamber, even the floors were a shiny white, and the smell of blood and rot tinged in his nostrils. Harry saw the voodoo designs marked in red and black along the floor. He stepped over one, knowing that it meant ‘soulless’. No Vaudun Priestess was going to hex him, thank you very much. A gleaming row of candles lit along one side of the wall, but they offered no beauty or comfort to the room like Jean-Claude’s choice of decor. 

She stood in the midst of the candlelight, and Harry could see the blackening of her soul. She was no longer smiling. She was drenched in a power that her body couldn’t handle, and it was cracking her from the inside out. It was much the same way that it cracked Voldemort, and he knew this because a lot of tomes spoke of vaudun. How it was used to boost their dark magic. Bellatrix had dabbled in it, and look how she turned out. 

Harry’s nose twitched as the smell of multiple animals permeated the air. Behind Dominga Salvador was an alter with many dead creatures. He kept his thoughts off his face, Manny stood right beside Harry staring at Dominga with a deep frown. Enzo was still in the doorway, and even he looked nervous about moving any further inside. 

Harry’s only thought was that maybe Dominga was a liar, and she did have a zombie on the loose. He wouldn’t be surprised, she had things trapped in here. So, what if someone she was related to had let it go? She would try to cover, maybe she would use a decoy. 

But, why would she lose control if she was so talented? The only reason a woman with this much power would lose control was if it was beyond her capabilities or it became something she hadn’t expected. 

When raising the dead there were many things to take into consideration; and if the magic well that rose around the animator during a summons was unsatisfied, many things could happen. Every necromancer made a sacrifice to call forth something that was no longer on the living plane. It temporarily allowed access to a world that up until a few decades ago no one knew about. 

Harry was in the perfect position. He could kill her now, use his magic to destroy the room and the alter. Enzo was only one person. He could kill the man or make him forget forever. He and Manny could walk out of here, but then he would have no answers. He would have gleaned nothing from following the old bat down in the basement. 

As powerful as vaudun was, it was limited and a real wizard or witch would not fall to the likes of vaudun. Harry, however, was no longer looking at anyone or thinking about the cause and effect of vaudun. Instead, his eyes had traveled over to two zombies. 

A dark-skinned woman who was at one time beautiful. She had short black hair that was cut nice and neat. Her cheekbones set high and wide enough that she looked Native American or a mix of Mexican and Native. It was horrifying to see that she was wearing makeup, bright red lipstick the color of her dress. 

The other woman was a stark contrast. Older and more mottled looking, grey flesh like that of a traditional zombie. The skin was pulled tight against the bone leaving her a real live skeleton with putty. She was being tortured, and Harry felt sick. He didn’t have to peruse them long because he knew what stood these two apart from every zombie he’d ever seen. 

By Merlin, she made a living horcrux! He could see the fear in their eyes, they didn’t flinch or draw back. He also saw a modicum of intelligence. He could feel the pulsing burning of their souls. Both of them had the look of terror, they were traumatized well aware of everything going on around them. 

“Well, Harry Potter what do you see?” asked Dominga through the gloom of the basement. 

Harry turned his gaze upon the feeble woman. She was definitely going to meet her end. “You have entrapped their souls back into their bodies,” he said tightly. 

She smiled as though he had told her she looked beautiful today. “I have, the only person alive to ever trap a soul back into a person.” 

Harry snorted quietly. “You’re wrong.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’re wrong if you think you’re the first. Sorry to break it to you lady, but the first was not even Voldemort. The first was a man named Salazar Slytherin over two thousand years ago. He did it to himself, he thought to remove part of the soul and place it into a container would allow him to transcend. Voldemort took it a step further, breaking his soul into multiple shards. But, they died before they could even turn a century because a soul is not meant for cutting. It is not meant to be housed or removed on a whim. A soul is a valuable currency. If you sacrifice yourself, you sacrifice your very life. You will never be placed back in the lifecycle. You will never be reborn as all things are. I am aware of capturing souls, but I am also aware of the price you receive for doing such. Nothing is worth that price.” 

“How very little you know then, niño.” 

“Oh, I know a lot. I may not be as old and sullen as you,” Harry was amused by the insulted look on the woman’s face, “But, I know. I have access to ancient texts that you could only dream about. I have the entirety of a Dark Lord’s library. I have every account up to 1997. You are nothing more than a feeble old crone, and I can see your death. It’s not a pretty one. You will die, very soon.” 

“How dare you!” she hissed. “I bring you into my sanctuary-” 

Harry didn’t need to hear anymore and he cut off her off in the coldest voice he could draw upon. “I dare because I am so far above you that no matter my height I will look down upon you. You are nothing more than a stain on my shoe. You are aware that I can kill you right now. I can burn your house down with everyone and everything inside.” He smiled humorlessly. “But I’m not going to because I have marked you already haven’t I?” 

She bristled, and instinctively turned over her palm that Harry had touched when she asked him to. Manny’s eyes widened when he saw a black mar of flesh as though it had been burned. “You know nothing child. You hardly deserve the powers you hold inside of you!” 

Harry waved his hand waspishly, and turned on his heel. “Come on Manny, let’s go. We’re done here.” He took Manny’s hand without bothering to look at him. 

Enzo made to move, but he found that he was frozen. He gasped and looked over at Dominga Salvador who was glaring at him. 

“Are you really going to walk away from me?” 

“You know I am. You have cursed yourself. It’s like slaying a unicorn and drinking from it’s silver blood. It will keep you alive within an inch of death, but at a terrible price. It won’t be long before that price will come due, and when it does.” He was now at the steps and he turned to stare at the frozen woman. “It won’t be pleasant, and there is no bartering.” He looked at the two female zombies, and he drew on a strong enough power that he released two fireballs in each direction. 

As they went up in flames with cries and moans, Dominga growled. “You will pay for that niño! Heed my warning, you will pay for what you have done to me!” 

“Hardly. You’re a crackpot.” 

He said no more until the two of them were well and truly out of the basement. Manny was breathing heavily from behind, and Harry could feel his confusion. As the dry August heat and bright sun flooded over them, Manny reached for him. “What did you do?” 

Harry frowned as he stepped onto the lawn, staring at the little girl who stared back at him on the tricycle. He had a sick feeling about her too. He looked at Manny. “I honestly don’t know. I have no idea what happened. I just felt I had to say something. But what I meant to say didn’t come out.” 

“You scared her,” breathed Manny in awe. “You terrified Señora.” 

“Sorry about that.” 

Manny shook his head. “No, I thank you. I have wanted to say that for a long time, Harry.” Both of them headed to the Range Rover gleaming in the drive. Harry had no idea where Antonio was, and he didn’t rightly give a damn. “I’ve been involved with sacrifices of the human kind, and I’m sorry for that.” 

“You changed. Everyone can change until they get to her point of no return. You don’t mess with the soul. I couldn’t have cared if she killed the entire block and raised them as zombies, but entrapping souls and making living horcrux.” Harry shook his head as he buckled his seatbelt. “I draw a line, and I’ve always felt close to death. It’s always been a friend in a way.” 

Manny backed out, bypassing the staring little girl, and they were soon out of the neighborhood. “What did you mean when you said you marked her?” 

“I don’t know. I felt that it was true. It’s like a feeling you get rather than a proper thought. I don’t understand half of it to be honest with you.” He was now fingering the once glowing chain around his neck. “ It’s all instinct and emotion, but that’s all. You promise not tell anyone what happened?” 

“I swear to you Harry,” said Manny gripping the steering wheel. “But, you do need to know that she will make good on her promise.” 

Harry smirked. “Let her come to me. I already told her. She is going to die. How she is going to die is beyond me, but I can feel it. I may not understand why, but I do.” 

Manny’s smile was slow and dramatic. He looked over at him. “You are the Necromancer that I could never be. I’m nothing more than an Animator. You are the real deal. You have a connection with that other world, don’t you?” 

“I guess I have, having died once,” said Harry thoughtfully. “I wonder how she knew though, how did she know so many intricate details that no one else knew?” 

“She is Señora Dominga Salvador, Vaudun Priestess. She knows much.” 

Harry didn’t buy it. She was somehow connected to the magical world, maybe not in Europe. Maybe her family were Black ancestors? She did have the black eyes of one. It wouldn’t be a stretch. A lot of Blacks had come over to America over the centuries, most of them having been squibs. 

Harry would almost guess that she’d been in contact with Voldemort or the other way around. Who knew? If she was there would be a record somewhere. Voldemort kept records of everything. It was how he knew what he did about Salazar and horcrux. 

Still, Manny did pose a good question. How did he know that she was going to die? How had he marked her? Why had the symbol around his neck glowed in such a way? He had no answers and no one to ask these questions to. 

It was just another mark in the column of Harry being kind of a freak. 


	6. Chapter 6

Manny looked exhausted on the drive back to Harry’s place, and it was as if his mind was a world away. Like a past had reared its ugly head and smacked Manny in the face. “Rosita would leave me if she knew.” 

“She doesn’t have to know everything, Manny. It’s in your past, and the past can’t be changed.” 

“Why are you taking it so easily? I’m just as bad as her.” 

“Maybe you were just as bad as her, but you are not the only one who dived too deep. You’re one of the lucky few. You got out. Some people never make it out. It’s not about strength or how much power you have.”

“I enslaved people, I slew the white goat to make her happy, but I was not happy. I was sinking and fast. I thank you, Harry for not damning me for a past that can’t be erased. It is despicable.” His knuckles went white as he gripped the steering wheel. “Still, I don’t think I could have asked for better backup. You really know how to scare people, Harry.”

“Just don’t call me niño.” 

“Never crossed my mind. A man is only a man when they have conquered, and I believe you have conquered. Your personal Salvador, hm? A Dark Lord, she mentioned? I was vaguely aware from some of the things you said, but... “ he shook his head. “You really died?” 

“I did. I don’t know what she meant about dying as a baby. I mean, my parents were killed, he tried to kill me, it backfired. He was sent away without a body, but I was alive. I told her I couldn’t care what she had done, but souls… you can’t touch a soul that way. You cannot mar it. It will come back on you. Death will always get what it requires in the end, one way or another.” 

“You believe so powerfully. You’d make a good Christian.” Manny smiled, and it reached his eyes for the first time since they’d left Harry’s house. 

Laughing, Harry shook his head as he peered out at the mass amount of traffic. “I don’t think so, Manny. I respect your religion, and if it’s your faith that kept you away from her then I say keep believing.”

“I think it is a combination. Rosita and religion. She is more deep hearted than me. Do you not believe that killing mars the soul?” 

“It all depends on the kill. It depends on the circumstances. I believe that Death is the final say. He is the ruler of all. You can’t escape him. I may not believe that a God shaped the world, but I believe wholeheartedly that if you try to rip the natural order from Death, he will come knocking. Somewhere inside you will know if you are on that path, unless you’ve gone too far. Like Salvador.” 

“Is that why you believe vampires are… not monsters?” 

“They have a soul, Manny.” 

Manny shook his head. “I just can’t be convinced.” 

“I suppose a lot of people can’t be when you see and hear ghost stories. But, they do. They have souls, and I have seen just as many humans if not more destroying one another and turning soulless than I have seen vampires. Salvador is one of them. She is a mere husk, Manny. She is what you might have become. But you didn’t because your soul was strong enough to pull you away from the edge. I’m glad she didn’t finish what she had hoped for, and I’m glad I met you, Manny.” 

Manny was in much better spirits when he dropped Harry at the house. It was coming upon ten o’ clock, but he felt as if he was ready for bed again. Whatever power he had called upon during his meeting with Salvador had made him a bit tired. He was thinking about napping before seeing to Teddy’s room, and making sure he had everything he needed for his arrival. 

He also needed to look into schools. Teddy coming now was perfect. He might be a bit behind by a year, but Harry could enroll him in muggle elementary. He would not only get the socializing he needed, but learn valuable skills too. Teddy had all the compassion of his late father, and yet all the vibrant lively personality of Tonks. Harry had no doubt that he might be a future Hufflepuff with that amazing mix. 

Hell, if only the world could think and be like a Hufflepuff, it would be damn near perfect. 

Harry was about to get a glass of water when he heard what sounded like bell chimes that only he and those keyed into the wards would hear. Unlike Grimmauld Place, the house wasn’t fortified, and Harry hadn’t wanted it to be like that, and the proximity wards only happened when someone Harry didn’t know or trust was getting closer. 

So it never sounded when Edward or Manny or even Rafael was here. It was tied to his magic, and so if he had a natural unrest about anyone or anything the wards would alert him. It required a bit of blood magic, and he only knew it thanks to Lord Voldemort. 

It was a simple answer to a simple solution, and it let him not be Mad-Eye Moody paranoid. Although, thinking about Salvador he might have to tighten them temporarily; but Harry hated the feeling of enclosure. He hated being pinned in like some animal. 

He was very glad to have re-routed the kitchen layout to the ground floor. Like most other old British style manors, it had originally been in the basement or cellar so that the servants were never seen. But, Harry liked the kitchen where everyone could gather without going down into dank darkness. He crossed through the kitchen to a window, briefly feeling like Aunt Petunia and her nosiness. 

He frowned and his eyes narrowed when he saw a shiny brand new Mercedes pulling in. It stopped for a moment as if it had no idea where to park. Yeah, the house and property wasn’t originally made to be modern. There was a garage in the back, but it was too far away, and Harry could be a lazy bugger when he wanted to be. The lane up to his house was made of old gravel, and made more for horse and buggy than car. Harry had been planning on fixing it up, but never had the opportunity. 

His frown grew deeper when the car finally parked. He couldn’t see inside because of the tint of the windows, and then the door opened and a large muscular man hauled himself out causing the Mercedes to shake a bit. 

It was Harold Gaynor’s bodyguard. He was dressed in a nude colored t-shirt with a black suit jacket, and Harry could see the sweat beading from his face from here. He could also see the leather gun holster as he shifted. He slammed the car door and then stopped to stare at Harry’s house. 

Yeah, 1700s and some-odd years at it’s finest. It was old, but in great shape. It was all original. Sure Harry didn’t have verdant green lawns, but he was a decent fellow with the drought going on and knew come September and October the grass would die anyway. It was mildly kept up. Harry said mildly because the hedges were a bit spriggy and the rosebushes hadn’t been tended to since spring. 

Harry was amused to see that the large man looked nervous. He likely remembered Harry shoving him back with a magical force, and wasn’t too keen on testing his abilities. Strange, Harry thought that this man seemed to know he had gotten back from somewhere. It was at that moment with every step the man took that a light bulb went off in his head. Connection? It was too coincidental. Nothing was coincidence by chance. Harry and Dominga were one of the few who could raise aged zombies, and where Dominga would have no problem with it, Harry did. 

So, why did he not go to her in the first place? Scared? Or did he, and it somehow failed? Why would someone as talented as Domina, personality and evilness notwithstanding, fail a summons? Unless something else was in play. Someone else connected to her that she was hiding. It was all too convoluted right now. He didn’t know enough. 

He moved quickly through the Entrance Hall at the exact time that he heard the knock. It was a hard knock. Almost like a normal hammer against the hardest wood. Harry unhooked his wand from his belt, and slid his palm behind his back as he reached the door. 

“Mr. Tommy,” said Harry before the man could get a hold of himself. “Pleasure.” He forced the most polite smile leaving Tommy the bodyguard even more cautious. “What can I do for you?” 

“You’re not going to invite me in?” 

“Do you want invited in?” asked Harry carefully. If he was invited in, he might not make it back out. 

As if his thoughts floated around the man, he nodded. “I do. We need to talk.” 

“Just for clarification, I am not for sale, Mr. Tommy. As you can see, I don’t need Mr. Gaynor’s money. Now, do you want to come in or have I made you realize that it is stupid to try and ask or even coerse me?” He saw the shift again, the man revealed his gun as Harry opened the door wider to let him in. “You go near your gun and you will be dead before you even touch the leather,” he warned casually. 

“A threat on my life, hm?” 

“You bet.” 

Tommy remained rooted to the porch as if he was unable to get himself to move further. “What are you? No witch could do what you did.” 

Harry wasn’t about to explain anything to him. He kept his polite smile. “I am many things, Mr. Tommy. I am small and I can be a right prat when it comes down to it. But, what I really am is not for you to know.” 

“Mr. Gaynor is offering two million.” 

“Pocket change. I have heirlooms in this very house that are worth three  _ times _ that,” snorted Harry pulling Draco out of his arse. “Now, I know you had no choice but to come here. You didn’t want to, and I’m guessing ol’ Bruno opted out because you’re bigger and stronger. I don’t want to direct my ire at the wrong sort. You are the messenger. You don’t deserve to be shot. You can tell Mr. Gaynor whatever you like to save your hide from whatever it is he might do. You might be better off trying to find someone else. But if you do find that someone, I’d suggest discretion.” He meant Dominga, and Tommy’s eyes narrowed. 

“Nothing will change your mind?” 

“Not a thing. Not even a reason why Gaynor would be so desperate to throw money at the dead.” He did wonder, but if he was going to find out. He would figure it out on his own. 

Tommy had a spark of rage. “Your magic won’t always save you little witch boy,” he sneered. “One of these days you’ll be without.” 

“And one of these days I’ll be dead, but neither day is today. So please, unless you’re here to keep me company, I suggest you get back to your master.” Ooh, Harry hit a nerve. 

A vein twitched in Tommy’s thick neck. “You haven’t heard the last of us…” 

“Right. Maybe  _ Dominga Salvador _ can help you out?” Harry drawled and sure enough Tommy flinched. 

Bingo. They were connected, but how they were connected he did not know. 

“That is if Dominga has gotten out of the basement where I left her.” Harry took an extra amount of glee as the rest of the color in Tommy’s sweaty face vanished. Harry closed his door, and soon he heard the slam of the car, and the bits of gravel and grass splutter as the man U-turned, and left as fast as he could. Maybe it wasn’t such an annoying day after all. 

It was almost eight of the evening when Harry left the library, and carried the cordless he had by his side. He’d called as many contacts as he could, but no one knew anything, and since it was now evening, and Jean-Claude had said he awoke earlier these days, he thought the vampire might be awake. 

Maybe he knew of someone. If not, he would try Rafael, and if all else failed, Edward. He knew that he could count on Edward, he’d find something like this a lot of fun to get in on, but Harry felt as if he had to handle it himself. He didn’t know why, but it was for him to deal with. 

In the morning he had Burke’s funeral to attend. All the Animators in the area were required to attend. No exceptions. He was also getting Teddy in a few days, and he wished he could have this whole thing solved before the boy arrived. 

He dialed Jean-Claude’s number, knowing there was only one phone, and he highly doubted that the man would be nearby. He could try Guilty Pleasures. He had the number in his wallet. He was surprised to get an answer on the third ring. “Yeah?” Harry hated it when people answered in that way, and immediately the voice reminded him of that Willie guy. 

“I need to speak to Jean-Claude.” 

“Whose this?” 

“You damn well know who it is McCoy. I’m the only British man you know.” 

“Ah, the witch boy.” Harry rolled his eyes at nothing. “Try Guilty Pleasures, you know his  _ favorite _ haunt.” 

Harry didn’t wait around, and hung up on the bastard before searching through his wallet to see fancy business card the man had given him. It took several rings before someone finally answered, and then they refused him outright before hanging up. Harry was annoyed by now, and decided that he would have to go down there if he wanted to talk to the man. 

Great. He wasn’t looking forward to Guilty Pleasures. 

Harry tossed the cordless, and made his way to the dredges of his closet. He chose the same jeans that Jean-Claude had picked out for him for the party, and yes he chose the extremely thin and embarrassing thong the man had provided, but he wasn’t going for the vest. No. Instead, he shrugged out of the white button down, and kept the snug dark green shirt. It was fine enough. Just enough to look alright without messing with anything more. 

He mussed up his hair a bit more, and then grabbed leather wrist cuffs so that he could stow his main wand against his forearm. After Tommy graced him with his presence, he wasn’t going to be too careful. 

He made sure he smelled alright before heading out into the dying sunlight. A stretch of gray was over top ready to close out the rest of the daylight. It was still too light for the stars, and while the air was still dry it was nowhere near as heavy. 

It took twenty minutes to get to Riverfront, and being Sunday there were a few less people. Once again, the idea of Sunday being a holy day, and people wanted to try and at least be good for it. Although, Saturdays were completely free to raise hell. 

Once he’d parked, he made his way across the lot, and as there was still a speck of light, Buzz was inside the doorway. Only a handful of people were outside, and none were waiting as he scaled the steps to see the man shaded and free of light. 

“Harry,” said Buzz standing from the stool he’d been resting on. 

“Hello Buzz. Is Jean-Claudee around?” 

“In the back.” 

He opened the dark curtain to let Harry through. “Cheers!” The human woman standing inside recognized him, and so didn’t bother to ask about holy symbols, and though it was Sunday, Guilty Pleasures still had a nice crowd, and for good reason. 

Nathaniel was on stage, and Harry twitched as he felt a stir in the air. Something hot and thick coasting over his skin as he gazed at the man’s perfect swimmer’s body. His stomach made a funny motion, and he tried to avert his eyes only to go back. He was rooted in place, thankful for the cover of club like darkness. Nathaniel’s body was glistening with sweat, the lights shining down on all his best assets. His long auburn hair braided around him, several women enjoyed touching it. He was wearing a bright green thong.

Every muscle of his body quivered when delicate piano fingers trailed down his arm, and he looked over to see Jean-Claude standing there with a subtle smile on his face. His midnight eyes shining even brighter. 

“Mon belle. Seems you are much more appreciative of this show than the last,” he said as his perfect smile morphed into a seductive smirk. 

Harry whacked the man’s stomach with the back of his hand. “Hush you. I came for you.” 

“ _ Oui _ , you did,” said Jean-Claude tracing down his jaw now. 

“I tried to call, but no one would let me through.” 

Jean-Claude nodded. “I’ll rectify that.” 

“Thank you. Next time I’ll ask for Buzz first.” Jean-Claude made a point of curling his arm around Harry’s waist and drawing him close for a most expressive kiss. Harry flushed against him as the club stilled to a crawl, and he was left a breathless mess. 

He was guided not to the man’s office, but instead down a cool black walled hall that snaked with several doors on each side. He was taken into one called the Lust Room. Another room had been known as the Greed Room. He knew a pattern when he saw one. 

It looked like a VIP lounge, silver and white leather sectional sofas lined around the entire rich black wall. The floor was plush white carpet beneath his feet unlike the hardwood in the main part, and there were footstools and ottomans. 

And was that a pair of chains with cuffs too big for the wrists? “Do I want to know?” He asked as the noise was cut off. All the walls looked sheer, not dressy, but still classy at the same time with a small crystal chandelier above glimmering with those droplet like bulbs.

“Private shows, dear mon belle. Do you know what that is?” 

Harry could guess. “I think I might have an idea.” He was trying so hard not to turn a brilliant tomato red. “Are you going to give me a private show?” he asked desperately wanting to turn the conversation around.

Jean-Claude threw back his head and laughed, curls springing around his face as he did. He pulled Harry closer caressing down his neck with the back of his fingers. “Perhaps one day mon belle, I will give you a show you will never forget.” 

Harry glared, but then it weakened. “I’ll hold you to that. I wish I was here for fun.” 

“Oh? What can I do for you?” Jean-Claude seemed to know that Harry seriously needed something, and while he didn’t pull away whatever haze that had tried to wrap around Harry lessened. It was still there, but more like a gentle hum. 

Harry didn’t mind it, and they sat on one of the center couches. “Did Rafael tell you what happened?” 

“Non, that man tells me little. I do believe he likes trying to get me to squirm,” said Jean-Claude as he crossed a leg over his knee and chuckled. “I would take offense, but I like Rafael. He has an integrity that is not easy to find. Just like Richard, though not as unwelcoming of his inner beast. You seem drawn to men with integrity. It makes me wonder why you were drawn to me.” 

“Now, Jean-Claude,” Harry tutted. “Only one of us can have self-confidence issues.” 

Jean-Claude chuckled. “It is not an issue. It is a fact. Do you not feel it? A power I possess in my veins. It is far stronger than anything most men and vampires have ever known.” 

“I already told you I felt something,” said Harry. “But, I’ve decided to roll with it. I’m not a boy who runs away from things so easily. Most run away from a storm, I charge right into it.” 

Jean-Claude folded his hands together and placed them on his knee. “Oui, I have already learned that about you. Pardon, I distracted you. You have something important to say. Please, I am not trying to avert your attention. I see your eyes. You are unsettled.” 

“A lot of things have me unsettled.” He told Jean-Claude about the house, and what he had found. 

Jean-Claude showed no disgust or expression through Harry’s explanation. “I’m used to a little blood. None of that bothers me. It’s the child. But, before that and before I came to the Circus I’d had a meeting with a multi-millionaire.” He explained Harold Gaynor as best as he could, and then went on to explain Dominga Salvador. 

Jean-Claude was sitting up straighter now, staring at Harry without blinking. He wasn’t even breathing. “Mon belle,” hissed the vampire with a shake of his head. “Do not get yourself into a place I cannot help. Especially so early in the morning.” 

Harry waved his hand. “I am not frightened of her or him. I was unsettled when she knew more about me than I expected. I’ve been here for years, maybe a little less depending on the month, and not once has anyone recognized me. She knew my name. She knew things that no one like her should have access to. I need information. His bodyguard came to my house today. I made mentions of Salvador, and he flinched. I know they’d been in contact, and I saw her zombies. I would be impressed if I wasn’t horrified. I froze her in place and I burned them. I know they might have felt something, but the soul needed released, and fire is about the only way to do that.” There was also the killing curse, but he didn’t want to do that around Manny. “I wondered if you knew someone, anyone at all, who had inside information.” 

Jean-Claude hummed thoughtfully, his fingers untangled and were now carding through Harry’s hair. “I may be able to assist you in what you need. I should also see to your protection…” 

“That’s not necessary.” 

“It is mon belle. I know of Salvador, and even most of the vampires keep clear of her. It is always best if you wish to live another night.” 

Harry didn’t mention the marking or that he had been overcome with a power. He wasn’t quite ready to divulge what he didn’t understand. “If I really needed protection I’d ask Edward, but I feel like for some reason I have to do this on my own. I don’t know why. A few things make little sense these days,” he said fingering the charm around his neck. 

“Like me?” 

“No, you actually make good sense. A few things have happened, once I understand I’ll tell you about it.” He looked over at Jean-Claude, tracing his perfect figure with his eyes. 

How did a man and vampire get to be so beautiful? Not even Fleur had his beauty. He made her look like a banshee. “You always make me smile, mon belle. You are deeply honest, and I appreciate that. It is hard to look at people and not read their lies. It’s all in the eyes. It doesn’t matter if their tongues twist or they are smooth. A lie is a lie.” 

“I try not to lie. I try to use the truth to my advantage, unless I have no choice. I’ve been lied too far too many times.” Harry held out his right hand. “You can’t see it now. I managed to heal it, but when I was fifteen, I had this teacher. She was horrible. She made me write lines with a quill, a quill that happened to be enchanted, and it used my blood. It would carve words onto the back of my hand.’I will not tell lies.’ It took many years to erase it. In fact, Edward saw the faint white marks before they vanished completely.” 

“Humans are just as cruel, mon belle.” He gathered that same hand into his own, and brought them to his lips to kiss. 

“I have always known that. I may have gone out hunting, but it wasn’t because a vampire is a vampire or a lycanthrope is a lycanthrope. I have hunted humans too, and I know part of me is no better than Salvador, but the soul. You do not touch the soul. That is a no-no. I should know, I was a container for a soul that didn’t belong to me.” 

“Most do not believe vampires have souls.” 

Harry snorted. “You do. I can feel it.” That was surprised Jean-Claude. “It’s why I know that while you’re as manipulative as a snake,” Jean-Claude chuckled, his lips curving around Harry’s fingertips, making it hard to think or not breathe a bit heavier. “You are in fact - you. No one is all one thing after all.” 

“You are only twenty-four, and yet you are wise beyond your years. You manage to bring a sense of order to chaos.” 

“That’s because I had an old codger who was a century old as a Headmaster, and yes he was human. Manipulative ol’ bastard, but in the end I suppose he was good.”

“You always refer to me as a snake. I should be insulted,” teased Jean-Claude. 

Harry grinned, feeling the air current between them, and he shifted closer. Jean-Claude responded with a tender kiss. “There is a reason why I say  _ snake, _ and not anything else. A reason that you have to find out all on your own, Mr. Jean-Claude.” 

Jean-Claude’s smirked. “I do like to be surprised, mon belle. I can’t wait to hear about them all one by one.” His fingers were once again on the move, dancing up Harry’s neck to his cheeks where they were cupped, and Harry drew a breath that Jean-Claude swiftly swallowed. 

Jean-Claude had him on his back in a sweep, the warm weight of his gorgeous body had Harry’s own fingers gliding and exploring the chest above him. Each kiss was heavy and seductive, and it was like the air was being sucked from him with every stroke down his side. 

Harry had the hungry urge to bite, and so he did, nibbling down on the full bottom lip causing a low growl to spill out from Jean-Claude. It sent a shiver down Harry’s spine. Their tongues diving deeper, their bodies flushed to where he could feel Jean-Claude’s entire weight. 

He loved it. He loved it so much, Jean-Claude often clutched him as though he had a fear that somehow what belonged to him would be taken. As if time and time again what he wanted and desired had been ripped from his hands. Harry would have to show him that nothing would allow that to happen. He pushed himself up, clasping Jean-Claude around the back of the neck a bit more firmly than he normally would have, and he used a trickle of magic to allow a bit of strength to flow through him. Enough to not only flip them so that Jean-Claude was flat on his back but to have Harry easily came down on top of him. 

He was absolutely enchanting, Harry thought as the black silk curls sprayed across the white sofa. His midnight eyes gleaming with surprise at the strength he had used to overcome the master vampire. 

“Mon belle wishes me on my back? How exciting. Perhaps one day you can give me a show.” 

Harry laughed softly and shook his head, cheeks flushed hotly. “I’m not you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

Harry brushed a kiss along the man’s jaw. “You’re beautiful and sexy. What do you think I meant?” 

“Do you not believe that you are worthy of being called beautiful?” 

“Erm, no not really,” Harry admitted with a half smile.

Jean-Claude traced Harry’s face to see him truly serious. “I do not understand why you would not see yourself in such a way. Why can you not see through my eyes? If only…” he breathed. “You have a natural beauty to you, Harry.”

“More like a baby duckling,” Harry tried causing Jean-Claude to laugh. 

“Non, no mon belle. You are beautiful. You have already bewitched most of my court. You have the Rats smitten, including their finicky Rom. You do not see, but that is fine. I will just have to show you.” He sat up, curling his arms around Harry’s slim waist. “And until you learn to see what I see, I will continue to show you.” He slipped his smooth hands beneath Harry’s snug shirt, enjoying the soft human flesh that yielded so perfectly beneath the pads of his fingers. He peppered Harry with soft kisses. 

If only his blood was high enough, he would show Harry exactly how beautiful Jean-Claude saw this creature. He had never wanted another so bad before. 

Every reaction Harry made was not dependent on the lust or ardeur. A natural lover he was going to be, and that above all was something he hadn’t had since Asher and Julianna. But, Julianna had not belonged to him. She belonged to Asher, and Jean-Claude inevitably belonged to no one. “Good luck, Jean. You’re going to need it.” 

Chuckling, Jean-Claude shook his head. “I should hold you down right now.” If he did not think it would cause alarm, he’d tickle this creature until he had him squealing. His thin nails gently glided along the sides that were more sensitive to humans, right beneath the underarm causing Harry’s eyes to sparkle, his cheeks turning more rosy. His pale features illuminated by the crystal light above them. 

“And what? Seduce me?” 

“In good time. I wish to take my time. Innocence requires a tenderness that should not be abused.” 

“Such a romantic.”

“Oui.” 

Harry could feel the warm thumping of his heart-beat through his chest. It overtook the lust and desire that had been flowing through him since he entered the club. Sometimes, Harry wondered if a being like Jean-Claude could possibly be real. Surely, he was a dream. A figment of an imagination having gone wild to try and bury the trauma and loneliness of his everyday life. To check that he was real, Harry swooped his arms around the vampire’s neck and kissed him softly on the ear. 

Jean-Claude’s eyes closed as he mapped every ridge of Harry’s lips. Perhaps in time, he could teach this little wizard exactly what he thought of him. He would enjoy the challenge, and he would be successful. 

“May I make a request?” 

“You know you can,” said Harry pulling back. 

“I wish for you to stay with me tonight. Is that alright?” 

Harry nodded. “I have a funeral to go to tomorrow, oh and a certain little man coming back into my life.” 

“Oh? Should I be worried about this little man, and should I give you my condolences? I am not used to talking about funeral and something cheerful all in one breath.” 

“I didn’t know him much, and I didn’t like him. But, as an animator I am required to go.” 

“Ah, I suppose that makes some sense. There are so few of you to begin with.” Harry nodded. “And this little man? I do believe you mentioned a godson with slight lycanthropy symptoms?” 

“Yeah, Teddy. He’s coming to live with me. Andy can’t do it anymore. I wish it were better timing,” said Harry settling back. “I’ve managed to put her off at least two days. I wish Draco were here. I wonder how much I have to pay Edward to baby-sit?” Jean-Claude laughed at the very idea. He could not imagine that shadow assassin doing anything with children. It would be traumatizing, for both of them. Harry shook his head. “Nah, I better not push it. He’d have my head for dinner.” 

“You are aware I run a circus these days that does cater to the little ones? If he is not frightened you should bring him here. I am sure many of the employees would eat him up.” He flashed his teeth as he said this, and Harry laughed. 

“Teddy would love it. He has all the compassion of Remus, and the exuberance of Tonks, his mother. It’s why I worried about him being shut up with an old lady. Once Teddy gets used to people you can’t hush him up. It takes a few days though. He’ll be quiet and watchful, and then slowly slip back into child mode.” 

“What an unusual name for a lady.” 

“Her name was Nymphadora, but she hated it.” 

“It’s a lovely name,” Jean-Claude hummed. “A unique one.” 

“Too unique for her. She was a bit of a klutz, but you never met someone so happy before. She was always full of smiles.” 

Jean-Claude was curious, and he wished to know more about Harry. “I had a child once,” he said staring far off as his memories of long ago surfaced as fragmented shards. “He died during childbirth. It was a terrible time for women.” 

Pressing a kiss to Jean-Claude’s forehead. “I can imagine.” 

“I wish I could remember better, but as the centuries move along, things from my human life gets hazy.” 

“Do you ever regret being a vampire?” 

“Sometimes,” Jean-Claude sighed softly, barely audible, but Harry’s hearing had been getting better. His lashes fluttered. “A vampire’s life is full of turmoil. Not enough hours in the night. Whatever you cling too may very well be gone the next day. You cherish each night even when there are too many in a row, and then you lament. Time freezes, and you don’t really look at the days on a calendar.” 

“I told Nikolaos that it isn’t dying that is hard. It’s living.” 

“Oui. I heard you. I may have been down, but I heard every word you said my little Death Master,” Jean-Claude teased with amusement shining on his face. 

Harry laughed. “I was spitting hot air, Jean-Claude. I was trying to tell a ghost story to a violent and out of control child having the temper tantrum of a lifetime.” 

“Is that truly all you saw her as?” Jean-Claude leaned back so that he could observe Harry better. 

Harry nodded with a half smile. “Yeah, that is all I saw.” 

“What do you see in me, Harry?” he asked, curious as to how that lovely mind worked. 

“Passionate in everything you do,” said Harry earnestly. “A man is still a man no matter the species. You are probably one of the most intelligent men I have ever met. You are downright insufferable though.” Jean-Claude laughed wildly. “And yes I do think you are a manipulative viper ready to strike when you see an opening.” Harry said running his fingers along the lace ties in front of his shirt. “But, I have this thing for snakes, and so I really don’t mind.” Jean-Claude grinned. “I was more scared of intimacy than you per say,” he said carefully. “I’m not used to attention.” 

“Their loss, all my gain, mon belle!” declared Jean-Claude. “Please, do me a favor and do not hesitate to bring your godson anywhere I am. He is welcome. All that you are is welcome.” Harry giggled from nowhere, and Jean-Claude arched an eyebrow. “Did I say something funny?” 

“A-as opened minded as I am, I am not taking my five year old godson to a stripclub, Jean!” Harry chastised almost choking on the idea of it. 

“Oh, yes, I do suppose we are in one,” Jean-Claude hummed. “I am going to have to learn a new set of rules when around a little one. I am used to it on the top floor of the circus, but…” 

Harry shook his head. “No, be yourself, Jean.” 

Jean-Claude looked at him with surprise. “What do you mean, mon belle?” 

“I want him to know you as you are. Be yourself. Be exactly who you are. The sly seductive vampire that you turned out to be, but with a soul that I can see is deep for miles. I want him to experience every kind of person. I do not want him to have the shadowed and naive upbringing that Draco had. It nearly ruined him. I want him to see other beings as real and as they are themselves. I’m not saying kill another in front of him, in fact please don’t, but be who you are.” 

“Oh, mon belle…” Jean-Claude felt a bit on the winded side. Not every day someone told him to be who he is, and especially around children. 

“He will never learn it is okay to be who he is with his differences if he sees a fake side, and trust me. Kids see all. They know things that they will never tell you. It wasn’t that long ago that I was one after all.” 

Jean-Claude shook his head. “You must not be real. I must be having some sort of dream, which is unusual. I do not dream.” He kissed Harry’s jaw. “We should rise before I am hunted down. It seems these days that no one can do anything for themselves.” 

“That’s what you get, you viper, for being Master of the City.” Harry slid off Jean-Claude who was adjusting his clothing. 

“Oui…” 

Harry held out his hand, and the man smiled and accepted it. Jean-Claude stood towering over Harry who proudly looked up at him. He cupped the soft human cheeks enjoying how he constantly warmed and kissed him tenderly. “I thank you for your night. I will have what you need soon. If you can give me some time to make a few calls.” 

“Am I still staying with you?” 

“Oui, I would like for you to.” 

“Thank you, Jean.” 

“Anytime, mon belle, now shall we go watch a show together?” Harry groaned, and Jean-Claude laughed as he lead the way. “Come, come Harry. No need to be shy.” He motioned. 

“One of these days, Jean. You’re going to wake up for the night with a case of blue hair,” he threatened. 

“Why blue?” 

“It’s a good color, and it’d match your eyes.” 

“At least you consider the fine details.” 

Harry wouldn’t get out of Guilty Pleasures until very late that night. Jean-Claude had walked him around the entirety of the club to every vampire, human, and were that worked there to formally introduce him, and to remind them that if Harry called, he was to be put through instantly. A chubby cheeked slim woman behind a counter blushed as she had been the one to answer and then tell him off for bothering her. Buzz greeted him like an old friend. Nathaniel who was thankfully clothed, not that it stopped Jean-Claude’s smirk, had also greeted Harry in such a touchy-feely manner that he had to work hard not to blush. 

It was three o’ clock in the morning when Nathaniel left, Harry was still blinking at the way the man had pet his hair or pushed close to him. 

“Wereleopards are particularly affectionate,” said Jean-Claude. “It makes him especially good at what he does, but also runs the risk of getting himself in trouble. He doesn’t know boundaries.” Jean-Claude knowing that Harry actually needed to sleep a few hours had left the club in Robert and Buzz’s hands since there was only an hour left before close. 

Riverfront only had a smattering of visitors and tourists. By this time most of them were lycanthropes and vampires of various kinds. “Well, it’s not like I’m going to take advantage of him.” 

Jean-Claude smirked. “But you’d like to.” 

“Absolutely not!” Harry huffed crossing his arms. 

“It is quite alright to feel attraction to others.” Jean-Claude’s version of walking was more of a dancing glide. It was as if his feet barely touched the ground. He was on air, and Harry felt like a bumbling baboon bambling about. 

Thanks Professor McGonagall for the alliteration! 

“It’s not that I’m not attracted, but I don’t know him more than a twenty minute drive. I can’t really be on about people I don’t know. It makes me feel weird.” 

“That is a new concept to me,” Jean-Claude admitted. “I guess some humans do think of sex as an intimate act, and it is for most. But as a vampire or a were it is kind of our nature.” 

“I’m learning that, and it’s fine. I’m open to all that. Just… not strangers.” He shook his head. “In the magical world, breeding and having an heir is the most important thing to them. They don’t care about your sexuality so long as you produce a child.” he waved his hand. “Teddy is more than enough for me. You don’t have to be blood to belong to me.”

“You are a rare breed of human. No surprise,” He took Harry’s wrist and brought it to his lips. “The way you smell has many vampires eyeing you like a piece of candy they wish they could devour.” Harry hadn’t noticed, his focus entirely on Jean-Claude, they were nearly at the Circus of the Damned now. Just around the corner and through an alleyway. “I am most pleased that you told them you were toxic.” 

Harry grinned, and tilted his head. “Since they still don’t understand what I am, it works. But if they find you snacking…” 

Jean-Claude laughed and swooped his arms around Harry in the middle of the open street. A few people were eyeing them curiously. A few females looked put-out or flat-out turned on. Jean-Claude buried his nose into Harry’s neck. “You are going to make me act ungentlemanly. If you keep it up mon belle I may well eat you!” 

A tall blue-eyed vampire was standing at the side-door. Most of the Circus by now had emptied, and only the underground had a few smattering weres and vampires. 

“How long can my master resist?” Harry asked once they were inside. He ignored the others and looked over his shoulder at Jean-Claude who was now staring at him as though he were the only one in the room. 

“A challenge, hm?” he answered enjoying the intensity of green that swirled a bit brighter. 

“Oh, you make it a challenge, I just do my best to win,” said Harry grinning ever wider. “I’m a rather competitive boy by nature.” They were soon in the smaller den where only those personally invited by Jean-Claude were allowed to enter. 

“Hm, that may be intriguing. But for now, we need to get you to bed. Do you not have a funeral arrangement to go to?” Harry made a face, and Jean-Claude chuckled. “Come now, do not make that face.” He tickled Harry’s chin. “You will be happy to know that I managed to procure quite the wardrobe for you.” 

“Oh no…” Harry groaned. Jean-Claude pretended as though he hadn’t heard. “You know I can’t go half naked to a funeral, right?” 

“You may meet Jason if he isn’t already asleep,” said Jean-Claude. “He is sometimes in my room, but he has his own.” 

“Jason?” Harry had heard that name, but where?

“Yes, he is Richard’s youngest wolf. I think you will like him. I want to make it clear to you that he is only a pomme de sang.” He traced Harry’s cheek causing lashes to flutter. 

“Okay, but you know, Jean-Claude I’m not going to suddenly jump to conclusions, right?” he asked as the man opened the luxurious bedroom door. 

It has changed a bit since the last time Harry had been there, and he noticed a bit of green seemed to highlight some of the white and black areas.

“Whatever do you mean? I did not wish to hurt you so I wanted to let you know. He is quite a catch, admittedly.” 

Harry tilted his head, and then shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ve been thinking a lot about things. I mulled it all over during a hot bath.” 

“Now I am curious, what did you mull over?” 

Just for the sake of it, Harry threw a silencer at the door, and then noticed the candles that were out and beginning to die. “You know, I can make it so these candles not only never go out, but they never burn you or melt down.” He said brushing his finger over one wick causing all of them to not only repair themselves back to their new splendor, but also flare. It was easy to bring wax back. 

Jean-Claude watched in awe as the entire room was flooded in a ripple of soft glowing fire like an audience standing one by one. 

“If you want them out. Just blow on this one, and they will all go.” 

“Marvelous.” 

“Also if you need protection of any kind, like a proximity ward or something that can alert you to new people or intruders, I can help you out.” 

“You are side-stepping my curiosity with a very good distraction, mon belle.” 

Harry shook his head as he stepped out of his shoes. “I’m really not. It only occurred to me that I can do more for you as a human servant than be by your side. I am supposed to protect you.” He didn’t notice Jean-Claude softening as he turned to the ancient cherry armoire. Harry sat on the edge of the bed. “About my mulling, which I don’t do much. I’m the type who doesn’t consider things until they’ve happened but I was overwhelmed and a bit overworked all at once. I know that polyamory is part of your culture. It’s the same with weres, and I grew up in a society that would not only frown upon it, but I think it might be illegal in the magical world? I don’t know. I never looked at it too hard,” he confessed. “But the magical world is behind the times. At least Europe is.”

“Oui, even the vampires and weres are behind the times,” he agreed placing a set of velvet pajamas down between them. 

“I don’t know much. I was very sheltered, and then I was thrown to the wolves, no pun intended. I never had a chance to explore anything. However, I decided that I am open to your culture and traditions. It might jar me, but I think I can understand. You’re all ageless, and like you said, time stands-still, and everyone comes and goes. It’s the way it is. I also know that you feed on more than blood. I’ve figured this out with my own odd feelings. Something I did the other day that I never do.” 

“Oh? Are you going to share with me? You should dress you know. Come here, stand in front of me.” 

Harry tried not to flush. “I can dress myself.” He tried to tug the soft cloth only for Jean-Claude to pull to make Harry get closer. “Hmph!” Jean-Claude smiled. 

“I wish to do it if you would allow me.” Harry slipped off the bed, and turned to Jean-Claude who reached for his shirt. Harry rose his arms. “Keep talking.” 

“...” How was he supposed to keep talking when he had a vampire undressing him? “I was overwhelmed by the missing child and all the blood. It was stuffed up my nose, and absolutely horrible. I ended up… closer to Rafael than intended. I buried my nose in his shoulder. I wanted to be, I don’t know.” Harry shrugged innocently. Not knowing how to put it. What had he wanted? 

“Held,” finished Jean-Claude without judgment. “It is natural to wish for affections after you see something so harrowing.” 

“Something like that. I’ve never done that before,” Harry pointed out. “Just needed real contact.” 

“You should,  _ with me. _ I do believe with the marks you may have gotten a touch of my more ingrained abilities. Normally it isn’t transferred through marks. Sometimes, the fourth marks will bring it through, but it is said that only a Triumvirate will pass along such a power. Maybe you tapped into it somehow when we connected.” 

“I never let anyone into my mind. You are the only exception,” Harry wanted to point out. “I had a Dark Lord in my head for seventeen years. I got good at pushing him away.” 

Harry flushed when Jean-Claude tugged him closer, kissed him along his chest and trailed down the gentle slim planes. “You are lovely to gaze upon. I do not wish to put a shirt on you. But, I must. If I do not, I might wake up extra hungry.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Mhmm. Anyway, I’m open to exploring different ways of things. I’m not going to fly off the handle. I maybe a bit of a smart-arse over a woman though.” 

Jean-Claude chuckled. “That is natural. You can compete with a man, but competing with a woman is not exactly easy.” 

“No, no it isn’t,” Harry agreed. “But, I wouldn’t say anything.” 

“But you would be upset if I were to take a woman, which is why I chose a man. I am a compromising vampire. I would be more apt to call Jason a boy. He is smaller than you. Richard wants to see to his protection, and so he gave him to me.”

“From what?” 

“His own pack,” said Jean-Claude flatly. “Please do not ask me to explain. It is not only tasteless, but you don’t need to hear it.” As he went for the trousers, Harry’s eyes widened. 

“W-wait!” 

“What? It is nothing I do not possess.” 

Harry burned. “I’m wearing that stupid thong you gave me,” he squeaked anxiously. 

“Mm, my lucky night. Come, no more bashfulness.” Harry’s eyes rolled, and his skin once again started to heat and prickle as Jean-Claude made undressing him a seductive art. His fingers in a perfect position to tease his skin, his mouth constantly dancing over him, sending shivers and arousing sparks. 

His hand and fingers kept brushing along Harry’s backside causing a ripple of goosebumps. The jeans fell to the floor. Jean-Claude pulled him closer, and naturally Harry ended up sitting straddled in his lap, and they kissed heavily. 

“You make me want to please you, mon belle,” Jean-Claude purred beneath his lips. 

“Not until we can please each other together.” 

Jean-Claude’s eyes fluttered. “I accept. I must feed before I do.” 

“I’m aware. Just letting you know.” 

“Come, let’s put you to bed.” 

Jean-Claude had chosen a soft black velvet men’s pajama set with silver stitching that were shorts rather than pants. Harry had mentioned that he really didn’t like sleeping in pants unless it was shorts of some kind. It felt good against his skin. 

Jean-Claude went to change, he too was tired, and with the night waning most of the community would begin to migrate to their coffins. A lot had been revealed that night. He hadn’t meant to talk about his past, but it was much too easy with Harry. He smiled and stood in the doorway when he came out to see Harry had fallen fast asleep on his side. 

Humans sleep so easily thought Jean-Claude sliding in beside him. How he would love to ravish Harry, make him scream and beg, but he could wait. 

Harry admitting that he was willing to explore polyamory had been a surprise. How could a young virgin be so sure of himself? It was because he wasn’t judgmental. He did not think the way others did. He considered the other side before he came to a conclusion. 

In the past, Jean-Claude had preferred the company of women a little bit more than a man. On the other hand, Harry was much more than a man, and no female came to his mind that could ever take his place. Not even a figment or an imaginative one. If Jean-Claude did not possess the ardeur, he would feel that Harry was more than enough. He would never need another. 

He snuggled Rafael? Jean-Claude twitched at this. He supposed the Rom was a fetching man. He was pleased that Harry was willing to talk to him, to tell him things. He wanted it to remain like this with Harry’s open honesty, as the more he talked about it the more comfortable he would become. 

Jean-Claude confessed to Harry that sometimes he got tired of being what he was, tired of the endless nights that had no time. But ever since Harry walked into his life, slowly things began to change. He felt hope beneath the strain of power gathering. He felt encouraged to take matters into his own hands. He wanted to act. He wanted to rule himself, and so knowing about Harry’s penchant for working with that shadow assassin, Jean-Claude had anonymously called in a mark. 

It all worked out in the end. Harry was his human servant, only two more marks to go. He would take his time. He would not perform those marks through manipulation. He had not intended to manipulate any part of their actual relationship, even when they were friends and Harry refused his advances. His first mark had been desperation. Harry was dying of a poison, and the second was another act of desperation. Jean-Claude was fighting from going mad, and he had felt the glimmer of Harry nearby. It had settled close to him like a comfort toy for a sleeping child. He grasped onto it, begging to be let in. All the others would come when they would come. 

Until then, he would continue to gather power, and live with a freedom of knowledge that he was no longer anyone’s slave. 

He brushed his palm down Harry’s soft back, and settled down on his side to watch Harry sleep in peace. 

It would become one of his most prized nights. He too fell asleep, naps were not unusual for vampires as there was only so much going on in a night. But it was hard. Sleeplessness was common, but he felt at ease, and he slept. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another crime scene late/mid-chapter. Readers of Anita Blake books might guess which one before we get there.

It was eight in the morning when Harry turned over and opened his eyes to see Jean-Claude lying on his back. His breathing was very slow, forearm draped over his pale stomach. He looked at peace, his beautiful face relaxed. For once, he didn’t seem to be thinking. He was also cool to the touch when Harry touched him. 

He’d only slept a total of about three hours, but he’d make do. He’d had even less for days in a row before. It was going to be a busy day. Unless it was Draco, Harry had never really slept beside another before. He didn’t really count Draco, there was no actual attraction there. 

“You may wish to get dressed instead of stare at me mon belle. It won’t be long until I will take my last breath of the morning.” He didn’t open his eyes as his velvet words trailed out. 

“I didn’t know vampires could actually nap.” 

“From time to time. It does help regenerate our minds, and refresh our bodies. But it is a luxury that normally a master or Master of the City isn’t often afforded.” 

Harry thought back to warding the man’s bedroom. “I can ward this place to hell and back. Not a single person could get inside.”

“Hm, we can talk about your breathtaking magic later.” It would be useful, especially should other Masters and challengers came calling, and Jean-Claude knew they would. Outside of St. Louis no one knew about Jean-Claude’s status as Master of the City, and it also seemed that only the leaders of weres knew unless they worked for him personally. 

All they knew was that it had recently transferred. It was always best to hold the cards close to your chest. Jean-Claude was gathering his power before revealing himself. Smart man. Jean-Claude raised a hand and caressed Harry’s cheek. Harry kissed his cool cheek in return. 

“Remember you have clothes in the wardrobe. You should make use of them.” 

“My master has been busy,” he teased. 

“Oui.” Jean-Claude’s smile was slow and soft. 

Harry didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to leave him. He would bet that most people would flee at the sight of a vampire taking their last breath, but no one should have to be alone. It couldn’t feel good. Harry shuffled and laid his head against the man’s shoulder. 

“You are incorrigible, Harry.” 

“Yep.” 

“Merci, Harry Potter, mon belle.” Jean-Claude made a strange noise, and Harry felt him stiffen as he drew one last breath. His body growing colder in an instant, and Harry, for the briefest second, thought he saw a glimmer rising from the master’s chest. Something swirling and glittering. It wasn’t tangible, but it was there. 

It was Jean-Claude’s soul, and it was like a caress of warmth as it filled the room. “Good night, Jean.” Harry kissed his forehead once more before forcing himself out of bed. To allow Harry in the room with his still and imprisoned body, Jean-Claude had to truly trust him.

Harry fished through what was obviously his new wardrobe. It stood beside another, identical to his own. It hadn’t been there before. Just like he expected, a lot of the clothes, while made of the finest materials with names that he could hardly pronounce, showed quite a bit of skin. But, there was a good handful of more appropriate clothing. 

He gathered a few pieces, and went for a quick shower. His eyes were still burning and he could do with some coffee right about now. He knew there was a kitchen being added for all the residents who weren’t vampires; but it wasn’t completed yet. 

He often wondered how Jean-Claude got anything done being awake mostly at night and only a few hours of the day? He would have to delegate, no other way for it. The question was, who did he delegate to?

Black and white glass subway tiles made up the expansive bathroom. He had gone all out when it came to luxury. But then, so had Harry. Still, Jean-Claude’s bathtub was two times bigger than Harry’s at home. Harry started wondering how many people could fit in it, and how many people Jean-Claude might have had in it before. It made him blush, and so he busied himself with a quick shower. He always used scentless soaps, but Jean-Claude was the King of Luxury. His products smelled like roses, not a surprise. 

Harry dressed in a dark purple silk button down with a dove gray buttoned vest. He wasn’t wearing a suit jacket, as he wasn’t close to the dead animator, and the trousers felt like water going down his legs as he put them on. Perfectly tailored to fit around his hips. He was aware of the two little buttons in the back that allowed for suspenders, but Harry wasn’t going to do that. He had taken his belt from his usual clothes as it was customized, and Harry wouldn’t have to re-apply the invisibility charms to hold his gun and wands. He would charm the others in his new wardrobe at a later date. 

He tried and failed, as usual, to tame his wild hair and instead just let it lay where it may in shiny spiked layers. After a quick brush of his teeth he was more than ready to go. He layered the outfit with a bit of Cooling Charm for comfort. He didn’t have to be outside or see the light to know that August was as dry as a desert right now. 

It was going to be an early fall with the way the trees and ground were dying. Harry liked the bright red and burnt colors of fall. How the world was aflame with color this time of year.

Harry doubted that Jean-Claude had sunglasses all things considering, but was pleasantly surprised to see a pair of black Dior sitting on a gold accessory corral. He figured they were for looks or simply because he could have them. Harry decided to borrow a pair, and after one last look at the still figure in bed, he quietly stepped out and closed the door behind himself with a snap. 

Harry had to stave off a yelp when a palm ran down his back causing him to whirl around to see a catty smile on a baby-faced young man with perfect pale blond hair and sky blue eyes. It wasn’t every day that Harry was taller than others without the need of boots or some sort of incline, but that day had arrived. 

“How has he not devoured you with the way you smell?” purred the man, his eyes shiny wildly. Harry let out a startled noise when the well built athletic younger man pushed that same body up against his own, and a nose began to trail down his neck. 

“Erm… Jason right?” Harry wanted to push him off, but that would mean touching his muscled frame. He might not have much in the way of height, but there was nothing imperfect about his body. He could see and feel it. He gulped when hands caressed down his sides, thank goodness he was clothed. 

“He’s talked about me?” the boy-man grinned as he leaned back to look at him. “Jason Schuyler! Master Jean-Claude’s pomme de sang. Do you know what that is?” 

“Yes,” said Harry trying to wriggle away. He sure was touchy-feely. Not that Harry minded, but really, they just met. “I’m Harry Potter.” 

“Yes, I’ve heard your name. Mostly, he calls you mon belle. He likes to murmur things in French at random. You’re a witch - wait no, he said to call you a wizard. I’m not sure what the difference is.” 

“You’ll find out someday,” said Harry with a half smile. “Jean is down now.” 

“I don’t think I could get away with calling him Jean,” he said grinning mischievously. “Maybe I should try? Nn, nah, don’t want to rock the boat.” 

Harry was taken back by Jason’s bright demeanor. His eyes sparkling, and his face full of innocence. Yeah right. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a funeral to get to.” 

Jason blinked. “Oh, someone close die?” 

“No, more like a professional responsibility,” Harry said offhandedly. “It’s why I’ve only slept for three hours. I’m an Animator.” 

“So I heard.” He was still tracing Harry over, sometimes licking his lips as though he were a little too hungry. “Sorry, you smell really… good. I feel your blood, it’s a bit intoxicating. First month after I was bitten I didn’t know what to do. It’s easy even in human form to get lost in the details, the sounds, sights, and scents. Did you know lycanthropes - particularly werewolves enjoy the stomach?” Harry resisted squeaking again when the man palmed him. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” He pouted. 

“I have a funeral to attend,” he reminded. “I don’t think less would be appropriate.” Harry thought maybe they should have a few conversations before the cuddling started. 

Jason drew back as though he came to his senses. “Sorry if I startled you. Do I scare you?” 

“Not at all.” He didn’t scare Harry that was like him being scared of a puppy. “Are you going in-?” He would imagine that Jean-Claude would awake with a need to feed. 

Jason nodded. “There are times when I sleep on the end of the bed. Is that alright? He asked me not to last night. I guess he knew you were staying. But, you know, I'm sure all three of us can fit.” He had no doubt, Harry thought. 

“Erm, we’ll see.” He would love to stay and chat with Jason more, but he had to really get going. “I wish I could stay and chat, but I really have to go.” He might even have to apparate if he wasted too much more time. He didn’t think anyone would notice if he showed up a minute or so late. Harry opened the door for him, and Jason beamed. 

“I like you. Master Jean-Claude was worried how you’d take to me.” 

Harry gave him what he hoped was an assuring smile. “I’m not worried, and I don’t mind. As long as it’s your choice in the end.” 

Jason paused at the door and looked at Harry. “I think I see what Nathaniel means…” 

“Hm?” 

Jason beamed as if he’d never said anything. “Nothing. Have a good day Harry.” 

As early as it was no one else was moving around at all. Harry really wished for some coffee, but he was on a time constraint. He was going to have to speed to make it. 

_ Ouch! _ After being underground so long Harry felt as if his body was in shock when the brilliant yellow of the sun beamed down all around him, it reflected off every available surface and right into his eyes. He shoved the borrowed glasses over his face. His car was hot and stuffy, and he quickly turned on the air conditioner as he strapped himself in, and headed out of the dead morning of the Riverfront. 

The funeral procession was already at the cemetery when Harry arrived. He was glad that he wasn’t required to attend the actual viewing. Not that there was much left of Peter Burke. It had been a closed casket. No amount of Muggle makeup or even plastic surgery would see to his head ever looking anything more than a husk. 

It’d been a violent and brutal murder. He parked behind Manny’s Range Rover, and set out across the verdant criss-crossed lawns. Cemeteries were allowed to consume extra water to keep the grass green. Something about giving grieving families the idea that their loved ones would always be surrounded by beauty in death. If nothing else it was one of the perks of a government job. 

Between a plethora of flowers and the smell of stale stuffy overly clean funeral home, Harry felt as though he were about to sneeze. His nose burned. He was thinking that maybe there was extra sensitivity that he hadn’t noticed before. 

The graveside service had a large tent with a fleet of chairs and fake grass. A woman with two children was sobbing, leaning heavily against a man that from the back looked a lot Peter Burke. Harry was going to surmise by the build and skin color that he might be John Burke. New Orleans strongest Animator, and other things that made the service itself rather laughable. 

Harry spotted Manny and his wife standing a ways back barely beneath the striking blue tent. He also saw Charles Montgomery, who looked like a bruiser towering tall and wide with a brutal looking face, but really he was an overgrown puffskein. He fainted at the sight of blood that wasn’t a chicken. Harry liked him a lot. 

His wife was working, and it occurred to Harry as he crossed the soft lawn to stand beside Manny who gave him a nod, that a lot of Animator’s had mates that did not approve of their choice of career. 

Caroline, Charles’ wife, looked down on everyone for what they did. Rosita barely tolerated it, and that was only because it meant she didn’t have to work. Bert might be a money crazed buffoon, but he always made sure his animators were well paid. Harry was one of the highest because of his abilities at raising near anything. Peter Burke was actually at the bottom of the scale. It wasn’t like every other person was an animator after all. It was an exclusive club, and it was this reason why they all joined together during a funeral. 

Harry knew he was sounding like the world’s biggest arse, and he didn’t mean to. He was running on little sleep and no coffee; he also had to prepare himself for Teddy. He did his best to show his respect. 

Jamison Clarke was also there. A tall thin guy with red hair, green-eyes, and dark skin. Most found him startling to look at, but Harry who was used to anomalies, considering the wizarding world and it’s genetics, hadn’t even blinked seeing him for the first time. 

Narcissa was a perfect example. She was the only one of the three sisters to have long platinum blonde hair and sky blue eyes. She could almost pass for a veela without the allure and charm. 

Bert and Mary were back at Animators. Harry would be envious of them if it wouldn’t be so rude.

As the sun beat down Harry tried to listen, only to space out at the lecturing tone of the preacher. It was more about salvation than the man that Peter was. Everyone got religious when death came knocking. He had a feeling death didn’t care about religion all that much. 

It felt like the world of lycans were determined to try and give Harry a heart-attack because once again a touch to his back had him almost jumping. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw Rafael standing next to him, and it took a lot not to jump the man when his large hand had produced a McDonald’s coffee. He took it instantly. “You are a saint,” he whispered. 

Smirking, Rafael was standing there in an old pair of sunglasses wearing a black dress shirt and slacks. “I thought you would appreciate it. It’s going to take the crew some time to finish the kitchens.” Ah, so Jean-Claude had hired the wererats to do all the construction? That was a brilliant idea. 

Rosita’s ram-rod straight back was now leaning, her eyes shining when she saw Rafael standing beside Harry. Manny shot both of them a curious look. He could also feel Rosita looking him up and down. Yes, Rafael was something to be seen as he gave them both nods of respect. Rosita actually turned pink in the cheeks. 

“How did you know I was here?” 

“It doesn’t take long for word to travel. Jean-Claude asked if there was any of us willing to play protective detail. I am not usually one to offer a service, but then I heard you were the detail that needed protecting.” 

Harry let out a huff. “Damn him. I told him I had it,” he murmured. 

“Now, Harry, you shouldn’t curse at a funeral,” Rafael said with a twitch of his lips. 

“Says who? That shmuck over there?” Harry hissed giving the preacher a dry look. Rafael bowed his head, brushing a thumb across his mouth as if to wipe a laugh that was threatening to spill out. “I respect people’s religion until it starts to drive me catty.” 

“Does that end in a chase on my end?”

It took Harry a second to realize what he’d said and how it sounded, and he was the one stifling a laugh. “Might be fun! But you’re one person I would never call a mouse.” He elbowed Rafael in his muscled side lightly. “Might call Jason that though, handsy little bugger.” 

Rafael coughed softly. “We are being rude.” 

“Sorry, I am glad you’re here. It’s just, I’ve been to too many of these,” he murmured quietly. 

Rafael remained beside Harry as the funeral proceeded, and when it came to a close Harry couldn’t help but scowl at the way the wife was acting, and around her two children. He understood grief, Merlin did he, but he’d never let Teddy see him like that. 

As the attendees made for the coffin, flowers were tossed on top, the woman staggered and then with a howl threw herself onto it. “Good news this man can’t come back at as zombie,” said Harry quietly. “Although how he was killed makes it bad news.” 

“Oh?” 

“He was murdered in a way that makes it impossible for him to speak. A zombie needs a mouth.” 

“Hm. Is it being investigated?” 

“You know how the police are.” 

“I do,” said Rafael coolly. “I’ll wait here.” 

Harry nodded and stepped forward after passing the coffee back, no sense in taking it with him to the coffin. He wished to pull the children away who were clinging to their grandfather and staring at their mother as if lost and uncertain what to say or do. Manny and Rosita were right behind him as he dropped a mum onto the coffin.

“Who is your friend, Harry?” asked Rosita on their way back in the softest voice she could. 

“A good friend,” said Harry, and hoping that because it was a funeral that she would leave it alone. 

Luckily, Manny distracted her by reminding her they had to pick up Tomas, their youngest son. Rosita beamed. “You should bring him around sometime! He’s a nice catch.” She winked, and Manny sighed and mouthed an apology as he lead her away. 

He didn’t wait around to be talked to by anyone else in fear he might say something sharp. Harry turned on his heel, and waltzed back to Rafael standing under a tree now out of the bright sun. “I’d never let Teddy see me that way.” 

“It’s one thing to show emotion, but another to scar them. As the parent, it is on us to be stronger when they cannot and help them to understand, even if it kills us,” Rafael intoned softly watching the spectacle and he passed Harry a folded note. “You will find the number of Irving Griswold. No one knows about his condition,” his voice was quiet enough that it didn’t travel past Harry. 

“Of course, I’d never just walk up to someone and say, ‘ _ oh you’re a lycanthrope? Show me, baby!’  _ Especially so loud the world can hear. Who is he?” 

Rafael laughed lowly. “That doesn’t sound like you.” 

“No, it really doesn’t. It’s like asking someone to strip. Jean-Claude might be able to get away with it, but I’m not even trying.” 

“Irving Griswold is a reporter. He has a lot of information, and is always looking for a source. He doesn’t know anything about the new master, but he has heard the rumors. You’re allowed to play with those rumors if you wish.” 

“I see, use his status to my advantage? A very Slytherin tactic I must say. I wonder how Jean-Claude did all this? Where does he get the time?” 

“He delegates well, I suppose.” Rafael looked over over Harry’s head to see a man coming closer. “Incoming.” 

Harry turned. “Ah, Jamison.” 

Jamison’s greenish eyes had a hollow look to them. Harry wished he could like Jamison, the problem he had with the man was that he was a mini-Bert, and claimed to be about free will and vampires being no different than humans, which was fine. Harry could talk about that all day long. But, it was his need to constantly point out that Harry didn’t know what he was missing thanks to his sexual preferences. He would always tease Harry, and ask if maybe he just hadn’t found the right woman to satisfy him. He always insisted he meant nothing by it when Harry called him out on it. None of that snarky teasy swagger could be seen today. He was completely devastated. Harry had known that Peter and Jamison were good friends, and he took it the hardest of them all. 

“I know he was a friend of yours, Jamison. I’m sorry.” He shook the man’s hand, and for once no snarky comment. 

He shook his head. “Makes no sense, the police won’t tell the family anything.” He raised his head to look at Harry seriously. “Peter gets blown away, and they don’t have a clue who did it.” 

Harry wasn’t sure what good he could do. He was at the bottom of the police ladder. Most detectives did not appreciate someone without a badge coming into their territory and telling them how to do their job. It was on the same thread as Hermione Granger trying to tutor someone in a subject they were already good at. It didn’t inspire friends. The RPIT squad wasn’t exactly popular, and St. Louis was a hub for crime. So much so that it was straining the police to control it. 

They say that supernatural creatures were trouble, but RPIT was a small squad compared to the man hours they put into the human side of crime. 

“I wish I could tell you something substantial. I’m sure they are working on it.” 

“Then why won’t they tell us anything?” he asked severely, and he scowled when he snapped his glasses in half. “Dammit.” 

“I don’t know, Jamison.” 

“Harry, you’re in good with the police, right? Could you ask?” 

“I’ll see if Dolph has heard anything, and let you know about progress when I can.” 

Jamison nodded looking depressed and relieved at the same time. Harry always came through one way or another. He glanced once at Rafael who hadn’t moved from Harry’s back. As though he were a stone wall. 

By now the family of Peter Burke were being taken away. The mother was practically being carried across the lawn towards the limousine they’d arrived in with the children bringing up the rear. Harry noticed the tall dark complected man with a thin black mustache break away from them, and head in their direction. He had big shoulders, and a strong gait. He like everyone except Jason, towered over him. 

He shot Rafael a suspicious look, and then from Harry to Jamison. “Well, is he going to help?” 

“Yes,” Jamison said, “Harry Potter, this is John Burke, Peter’s Brother,” he introduced formally. There were rumors that the man dabbled in Vaudun, and Harry had dealt with enough of that recently thank you.

“And you?” John looked at Rafael who arched a brow. 

Harry knew that if they weren’t at a funeral, and Jamison wasn’t in mourning, he’d probably have a smart arse comment to say. As such, he didn’t, though his lip twitched. “A friend. I am truly sorry for your brother. I’ll see what I can get from the police.” 

John nodded. “Thank you.” 

“I’m really surprised that the New Orleans police didn’t give you anything with your talents and standing,” he said being careful not to let it seem like he was interrogating the man. 

John grimaced. “The New Orleans police and I have had a disagreement.” 

“John was accused of participating in some ritual murders,” Jamison explained. “Just because he’s a practicing vaudun priest.” 

_ Just because _ , Harry thought. “People do tend to jump the gun a little too quickly,” he said showing nothing on his face. He was pleased to see John Burke nodding sharply. “How long have you been in town, John?” 

“Almost a week. You see, Peter had been missing for two days before they found… the body. Anything you can find out will be much appreciated.” 

“I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime you should look after your niece and nephew. I’m sure they’re terrified right now.” He arched a brow, and John glanced toward the limousine where the family were waiting with the door open. His sister-in-law could still be heard sobbing. 

“It was rough for me to watch her throw herself on the coffin. God, what must the kids be thinking?” He was almost in tears. 

“I’ll talk to the police, find out what I can. I’ll tell Jamison everything I know if I get anything.” He also had more reason to go fishing now. So many names, and they may or may not be connected. 

It just so happened that he was investigating another vaudun practitioner, and the coincidences of all of this was not missed by Harry. It wasn’t often that a murderer would come up with a way to shut up a zombie. Animation had only been legalized in America for about five years, and allowing a zombie to testify in front of a Judge had only been accepted in the last year or so. 

An average non-magical person would not think to take out the mouth and brain all at once, unless they knew he would be raised for questioning. 

“I should take my leave, thank you, Harry.” He held out his large hand, and Harry had to fight from wincing when the man squeezed it a bit too hard as if they were comparing strength. Jamison nodded, and the two men walked away. Harry watched them until they were at the edge of the street. 

“Harry…” 

“Oh, I already smell a coincidence.” 

“I don’t like him,” said Rafael. 

“Me either.” Harry rubbed his hand. “But, it did give me a hint.” 

“Now, can you tell me what’s going on? I’d like to know what had Jean-Claude so on alert.” 

“Let’s get some cooler air. I have to get Teddy soon,” said Harry checking Rafael’s gold watch. “He’s coming to live with me. If only the timing had been a bit better.” 

Rafael held out his hand, and Harry dropped the keys. “I allowed Claudia to borrow my truck for the morning.” 

“Ah, I wondered why I hadn’t seen it.”

Harry told Rafael everything as he saw no reason to hide it if the man had been brought out for protection. Rafael frowned. “I see. I only know rumors of Salvador. Do you think it is connected to this man who tried to get you to perform human sacrifice?” 

“Maybe. It wasn’t my imagination when his bodyguard flinched the second I mentioned her. It’s the only reason why I mentioned her. It was too convenient that he stopped in not even five minutes after I got home. It was like he’d been watching and waiting or he got a call and knew I’d be home. Salvador didn’t like me freezing her in place and giving her a few warnings.” 

“I don’t expect she would,” said Rafael. 

“I can take care of her. I feel as though I have to do this.” He started playing the chain around his neck. “It’s almost like with the way she was talking that she looked up to the monster that was Voldemort. It was like she had had some sort of contact, but I can’t see him ever talking to anyone like her. She is technically non-magical by the magical world standards. So, how did she know so much? If by chance Gaynor hired Burke first and when he failed in reanimating the corpse, he swung over to me.” 

“Why would he hire Burke in the first place?” 

“He’s vaudun. He’d have no hesitation with human sacrifice if it paid well enough. Peter Burke was an animator, but he wasn’t very good at it. He must have thought that his vaudun would strengthen his talent.”

“So they killed him when he failed?” 

“Likely or something did come out of the grave, got loose, and they rushed to cover it up. Gaynor probably wouldn’t think about shooting Peter Burke in the mouth. He’s a rich dumb arse who lets others think for him, but Salvador? She would or she would see an opportunity. John Burke said he was missing for a couple of days. I’m taking leaps here, and I could be all wrong and my exhaustion is making my imagination run wild. I imagine she would be curious to exercise her abilities on an animator if she goes so far as to re-trap souls in zombies.” 

“What happens if an animator is brought back?” 

“You saw Zachary right? He’s what I call a lich not a zombie, but other things can happen. He could become a ghoul or something else entirely. I suppose it depends on the strength of the Animator. Somehow they are all three tied together. John Burke has always been rumored to be a vaudun. It is one religion I would judge a person on,” he told Rafael. “You don’t mess with the soul. You just don’t.” 

He was starting to get hungry now, and asked Rafael if he’d eaten yet. “I’ll never say no.” 

“So, how long is my protective detail?” 

“Until he’s satisfied.” 

“Oh boy.” 

“Am I that bad of company?” He laughed when Harry smacked him playfully on the arm. “Besides, it’s either that or deal with plumbing at the Circus. I’d rather do this.” 

“Least I rank above plumbing.” 

oOo

It all happened at the same time, Harry was pushing through the door of his house with Rafael behind him when the phone rang and the Floo alarm flared at the same time. 

“Shit!” Harry said rushing across the hall, and scooping up the phone first. “Hello?” he asked moving swiftly into the Floo room, and tapping the stone at the same time that Andy’s head popped in. He placed a finger to his lips for a moment and mouthed phone. 

“Harry?” 

Harry’s stomach sank and he turned around to face Rafael who was now standing in the doorway. “Dolph?” 

“We found him.” 

“You found the boy? Is he…” 

“Burrell Cemetery. You need to get here and quick. I need to get home and hug my wife.” 

Harry let out a shudder. “Is it bad?” 

“Just come.” He hung up leaving Harry not only hungry, but very nervous. 

“Harry?” Harry turned to see Andy. “Are you okay dear?”

Harry crouched. “Long morning.” 

“Do you need me to give you some extra time? I understand that this is so sudden,” said Andy looking at him with concern. “You look like me on a good day. You haven’t slept.” 

“Three hours. I had a funeral this morning and that was a call from the police. A few things are going on, and I really can’t give Teddy all the attention I want to at the second,” he felt like a failure of a godfather. 

“Understandable. It’s a good thing that Fleur came by an hour ago. It’s what I was going to tell you. She wanted to take him out with her children for the night.” 

Harry nodded. “It would be helpful. Draco will be back by the end of the week, I can ask him to bring Teddy with him if needed. You can tell him I’m chasing bad guys.” 

“He’ll love that.” 

“It’s the truth, you’re brilliant Andy thank you.” 

“Always!” He hung his head when she disappeared. He fell on his backside as though all the wind had been taken out of him. 

Rafael swept through. “Now that is one interesting -  _ call _ . Is that how you always do it? Your head suspended in a fire?” 

“Gave me a right fright when I saw it the first time,” said Harry. “I feel horrible, putting off Teddy.” 

“You don’t have a choice. It is no fault of your own. You can’t spread yourself too thin or you’ll be useless to yourself and him.” 

“I have to get to the scene.” 

“Is it going to be bad?” 

“Probably, Dolph never says too much at first, but I’m sure of it. I know his tones by now.” He tapped the cordless in the palm of his hand. “Looks like no food.” 

“Do you have anything instant like pop-tarts?” 

“I have those freezer pastries. Draco loves them. Not very healthy though.” He scrunched his nose. 

Rafael chuckled. “About all I can make is unhealthy food. You should get off the ground. You’re wearing black after all.” He held out his large hand. 

Harry grinned and accepted it. “I’ll have you know that my floors are so clean you can lick off them.” He got to his feet. 

A couple of pastries and extra coffee later, Rafael had them at the cemetery in record time. Harry swallowed and rested his head against the seat as he tossed off the belt. He had changed out of his dress shoes for his usual trainers. 

He then realized as he was getting out that these clothes didn’t have repelling charms on them so that he could mostly evade blood. He could go with coveralls, but they were a pain and made him look even smaller. 

He charmed them silently and nodded once to Rafael before heading into the cemetery that sat on the crest of a hill. It was an old one, and it was full. It would take a good ten years for the rest of the magic to dry up, probably more if the boy had died here, but he was doubting it. 

Harry could see Dolph in the distance. He easily towered over everyone around him. He was straight faced as Harry had ever seen him. Detective Clive Perry came to him, but he wasn’t able to produce the usual smile or even a half smile. 

“Mr. Potter.” 

“Detective Perry.” Harry watched as every detective nearby was doing their best not to look at the ground. “Is it bad?” 

“Not as bloody, but it’s a child so it has its own horrors.” 

_ He’s at peace now. Nothing can harm him _ , thought Harry as he gave a short nod and crossed over. 

Zerbrowski inclined his head, his mouth in a thin line. Yeah, it was bad. No teasing about his clothes or if he could see from the road the man in his car. 

“Dolph.” Harry’s eyes dropped to the sheet on the ground. 

Dolph leaned down. “Harry. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” 

His eyes took in the soft blue cartoony like pajamas. It was hard to picture this child without seeing Teddy. He was so small, his little arm was over his eyes as though he were sleeping. But, Harry had seen the brown spot near his stomach. 

Harry almost didn’t need to look. He wished he didn’t have to. Merlin, Harry was almost sure he was alive when the thing took him. It was horrible, why couldn’t it have been a quick and clean death? His hair was soft and brown, damp curls like the mother. It was as though he’d been washed. 

No one was looking at him, and Harry used his fingers like tweezers to pinch delicately at the shirt to raise. Everything beneath was gone, and the blood hadn’t been dried long. He delicately placed it back not wanting to see anything more and he was quiet as he crouched. He wasn’t going to be sick, but he felt woozy. He needed sleep, the toaster pastries swam a bit. 

“Well?” asked Dolph, his voice quieter than usual. He was probably giving Harry time to get himself together. 

“Not long. He was alive when it took him. He’s been alive until recently. By Merlin what he must have felt?” He shook his head as he stood up and took off the gloves. He had thought the child was dead, hoped it even. 

“You really think he was alive?” 

Harry nodded hollowly. “Certain of it.” He looked back down as Dolph covered the child with the sheet. “Did I mention John Burke has been in town for a week?” he said trying to catch his breath. “He was Peter Burke’s brother. You might want to check him out with the New Orleans police department. He’s vaudun, and they don’t like him. He was accused of ritualistic murders.” 

“Do you still think this could be a zombie?” 

“More than ever,” said Harry. “He was dropped here this morning. Zombies aren’t harmed by sunlight even if they don’t like it. But, they don’t need to rest in a coffin. It could be anywhere. A ghoul would have had more of the child. It also wouldn’t have taken him alive. A vampire - no way.” He wasn’t even bothering with that idea. “If they used voodoo there will be signs of the ritual, somewhere.” 

“Like what?” asked Dolph scribbling on his famous notepad. That thing looked as old as Harry. How many more pages could it have? Harry was doing anything he could to be distracted from what was at his feet. 

“A chalk verve, drawn symbols around the grave, dried blood, maybe a fire…” But Harry stared at all the high grass. “But, I wouldn’t want to start an open fire in this place unless they knew how to control it. Most don’t.” 

“If it wasn’t voodoo?” 

“Animator. You would look for dried blood, maybe a dead animal. There won’t be as many signs and it’s easier to cleanup.” 

“Still doesn’t sound zombie to me. Zombies have no logic.” 

Unless they have souls, Harry thought darkly, but he kept his mouth shut about Salvador and what he had found.  _ Sorry, Dolph _ . “I don’t know what else it could be. I think we should act like that’s what it is. It gives us a place to start.” 

“If it did come from here, can you find what grave it came from?” 

Harry scanned the grounds. He could feel some of the magic tickling through his feet. Odd, last month he’d had to take off his shoes to feel it. But it felt as though it’d gotten stronger. “Yes. I can feel Death Magic beneath the ground. It’s alive and stirring.” If only he could ask a ghost or spirit nearby, but the non-magical kind never stayed tangible for long enough to get anything out of them. 

“We’ll give you all the help you need,” Dolph said with determination. 

“It’ll have to be at night. I can’t do anything right now,” he confessed. Dolph didn’t like the sound of that, but Harry sighed. “I wish I could, but the power is stronger at night because I’m not dealing with a thousand different magics in the air brewing around me. Every kind of magic has its strengths. Death Magic’s strength is most prominent at night. I can find it easier and much quicker and won’t have to weed through so many threads. I need it to be night.”

Dolph who had already taken off his gloves rushed a hand over his face as though it had been the longest day of his life. “What time? I’ll send some men out.” 

“I don’t know what time, and I don’t know how long it will take. I could be wandering out here for hours and find nothing.” 

“Or?” 

“Or I could find the creature that did this.” He waved his gloved hand at the sheet. 

“You’ll need backup for that, Harry. Just in case.” 

Harry would have preferred to do it alone or even have Rafael with him. Maybe if he could get Jean-Claude that would be even better. He knew they were supposedly trained for this, but Harry doubted that the big guys knew how to really train them. If they did, they’d have the sense to hire a lycanthrope or a vampire at night willing to show them. 

But, of course, they never would and so for now the muggle police department would send men and women to potential deaths out of stupid pride and dignity. What was dignity if the job wasn’t done right? “You know, you need silver bullets or it won’t even be dented. Zombies are best against fire. If I could find it I might be able to get a control on it.” Might is an understatement. He didn’t know if this was a crossbreed or something new. “It’d be nice if you had a flamethrower,” he said thinking of Edward. “Like the exterminators that use them on ghoul tunnels.” He took off his own gloves, and Detective Perry was kind enough to take them for the trash. 

“Those aren’t standard issue.” 

Harry placed his hands on his hips and looked up at the sky. It didn’t look like there was any rain in sight and the smell in the air would be noxious if he wasn’t used to it. Such a beautiful blue sky up above, hell on the ground below. Harry swallowed the bile down his throat, trying not to gag. He didn’t get sick. He didn’t let his nerves get the best of him, but he kept thinking about Teddy. 

“We need them. You need to have an exterminator team standing by,” he said finally as he dropped his gaze. It hadn’t done much to help him. 

“Good idea,” said Dolph with a definitive nod. 

“Also, I need a favor,” he said moving around the body carefully. 

He explained to Dolph about Peter Burke, and the funeral he had attended. Dolph frowned. “I can’t get that information you know that. It’s not allowed.” 

“But he could be suspect. He is vaudun, and while I respect every religion - to me that is not a religion,” he told Dolph boldly. It surprised Zerbrowski. Harry had always been open minded that way. “Anything that hurts another person physically, spiritually, or mentally is  _ not _ a religion. It’s a cult, and I don’t care if John Burke might be kosher or might just like the sound of vaudun being next to his name. He still claims vaudun as his own. If I can get enough facts that I can feed to John Burke, I might be able to stay in good with him and get a line on him. If he is the one behind this, we can catch him when we catch the beastie.” 

“You sound certain.” 

Harry shook his head. “I’m not certain. I could be off the mark and John Burke is an innocent arse. But, I don’t want to see this again” He pointed at the sheet on the ground to make his point. It made all eyes go to the ground and back up again. Perfect way to prove a point. “Do you? If I have to accuse a full grown man of murder even if he’s innocent, I’d rather do that than see this. He won’t be the one traumatized. Just irritated.” 

“I didn’t hear that.” But Dolph understood exactly what Harry was trying to get at, and not even good mannered Detective Perry who was a very by the rules kind of man would get in the way when a child gets involved. No one decent would. 

“I’m not going to. I’m good with people. He’ll never know what I want out of him if I can help it.” 

“Yes, yes you are,” Dolph agreed. “You be careful right?” 

Harry gave him a look. “I may be five five five without my boots, but you know better than that, Dolph.” 

Zerbrowski couldn’t help but snort. “Five five five, huh? Isn’t it five point five?” 

“Arse.” 

“A nice one right?” he tried with a weak smirk. 

Harry seeing the line of distraction, tugged it and Dolph and the others let them. “It has its moments. I guess I know why Kate likes you.” He winked and Perry snorted quietly. 

“One last question, why didn’t it eat most of the boy?” asked Dolph. 

Harry dropped the amusement instantly, and considered it. “I wish I knew, Dolph. If I knew I might know what did it. I have never heard of a zombie like this one before. It could rise like a vampire, and so if you kept the exterminator team and backup hanging around until after dark, you might catch it rising and be able to get it.” 

“Is that likely.” 

“Not really, but it’s a possibility.” 

“I don’t know how I’ll explain the overtime, but I’ll do it.” 

“I’ll be here as soon as I can,” Harry said as he stepped away to leave. 

“What else could be more important than this?” he asked. 

Harry sighed and wiped his forehead, he could feel the lightning bolt scar that had fascinated most of the team. “I might or might not be getting my godson today. His grandmother can’t do it anymore, and I’m supposed to have him. I managed to put her off with the emergency here,” he said looking at the body.

“You have a godson?” Zerbrowski asked in surprise. 

“Yeah, his name is Teddy. His parents died when he was a couple months old. I was named godfather. He’s been with his grandmother. She lost her entire family in one year, Teddy was all she had left. But, she’s not who she used to be. It’s broken her spirit you know?” 

Dolph nodded in understanding. His face actually softening at hearing about his godson. Detective Perry escorted Harry back to his car. He was so gentlemanly and kind, and Harry thought that his wife was one lucky woman. “How’s your wife doing?” 

“Next month our first is due,” he said with a weak smile. 

Harry beamed. “That’s wonderful! I still remember Teddy being born. Remus was so happy. I’d never seen him look so good.” 

“I hope I look the same.” 

“You’re a rock-star Detective Perry, that’s all there is to it. If your wife gets this you at home. You’re pretty amazing.” 

He laughed. “Thank you.” He noticed Rafael in Harry’s car. “A friend?” 

“Mm, good friend.” 

Detective Perry lost his smile. “Do you think we can catch this thing?” 

Harry sighed. “I can’t lie and say yes. I haven’t the faintest idea. It seems that lately new things keep cropping up. Stuff that even surprises me.” 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.” 

“I’m sorry. Give your wife my regards! Is it a girl or boy?” 

“Don’t know. We want it to be a surprise.” 

“So, if I bought something mint green you’ll accept it?” 

He grinned. “Sure will. Be careful, Harry.” 

“You too, detective.” 

“Call me Clive. Most do.” 

Harry ran across the road, and slipped back into the car where the air conditioner was blasting and Rafael was reading a magazine. 

“That bad?” Rafael asked. 

Harry looked at him. “Haunting. He was alive, Rafael. All this time, he was alive.” He swallowed thickly. “It wasn’t as - bad. It was like the thing tried to control itself only to lose it’s mind at the last second.” He shook his head. 

“...” Rafael looked him over. “Come here.” 

Harry kicked off his shoes, and shuffled over to the middle. Rafael wrapped his arm around him, and Harry sank down burying his face into the side of the man’s chest. 

“You should rest.” He was tired, but the fear of nightmares of little boys in footie pajamas with child like cartoons stained in blood was on the edge of haunting him. Rafael drove away from the cemetery. “You have about six to seven hours before seeing Irving, why don’t you try getting some rest?” 

“Maybe. If I’m afforded some sleep at all tonight, I’ll have to take a Dreamless Sleep Potion.” 

“Is that one of those magical drinks?” 

Harry laughed at the term. “Yeah. It helps me sleep without nightmares. You can’t take a lot of it though. It’s addicting. I only take it when things get really bad, which they haven’t been for a long time. Yay me. I’m running into things I don’t even know.” He brought his shoulders up and then slumped further against Rafael. “I’m thinking it could be an ensouled zombie. It might have a conscience. Might have not wanted to - eat him. But, why take him?” 

“I can’t answer that. I think I see why Jean-Claude wanted someone with you,” he said keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the steering wheel as the other was occupied. “I think you need to rest before you start thinking again.” 

He was right. Harry did need to rest, and they were soon pulling into the lane. “I need to lay new gravel or something. It’s not made for cars. It’s why I park in the grass.” 

“It’s old,” acknowledged Rafael. 

“Yes, at least 1700s. Any of your weres do gravel laying? I’ll pay nicely!” 

“I’m sure there is a group. It’s hard to keep up on everyone’s work lives, but I will ask around.” 

“Free food too if you want to sweeten the deal.” 

“That’s almost better than money,” Rafael said amused as he shut the engine off. 

Harry didn’t want to leave Rafael’s arms. He’d have preferred to stay in the car. Rafael had strong hot arms, and it felt as though that all nightmares could stay away from him. Rafael could be the bully of his nightmares. 

_ Geez, clingy much? _ Harry had to stop that. He slid to the passenger seat and staggered out with a heavy sigh. 

It was nice when nothing rang or no alarms sounded. He was tempted to cut the cord on the phone, but knew that he better not. He was already shrugging out of his vest. “If you need to you can use my car to do whatever you want or need to do. I technically don’t have to drive, but I do it because most people get spooked when I use another form of transportation.” 

“Oh?” Rafael was curious, especially after the fire communication. 

“I can’t do it inside, I have prevented that from happening,” Harry laughed. “You’ll have to wait to see. Also, if you ever need protection on any of your properties I can do it. You know, proximity wards that are keyed to you. It will warn you should someone be approaching the property.”

“Interesting. It could come in handy,” agreed Rafael. “Particularly our clinic.” 

“I’ll see to it being done. I guess I will go and lay down.” 

“Yes, you need to rest.” 

“Thank you, Rafael.” Harry hugged him, and he warmed when the man hugged him right back. 

“You’re welcome, Harry.” 

He did snag a potion from the store cabinet in the kitchen, and after taking a few sips. He fell to the bed, and the world dissolved into sleep. 


	8. Chapter Eight

#  Chapter Eight

It was six wonderful hours later when Harry was wrenched from the dreamless world of sleep thanks to his phone, Harry groaned when the sound shrilled into his ears making him roll. He reached tiredly for the phone. 

“Mo?” He realized it wasn’t turned on, and hit the talk button. “Lo?” 

_ “Little raven has been a naughty boy, playing without me,” _ hissed the familiar flat voice of Edward. 

“Edward…” Harry breathed, ignoring the jolt in his chest. “Edward… do I know an Edward? Yes, I think I’ve been in contact with an Edward.” 

_ “Half asleep and still being snarky? You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. I had a good mark.” _

“ _ Mngh _ .” Harry tried to speak around a yawn, and nearly bit his tongue. “Erm… sorry, bad day. Shit day. Shit I don’t understand.” He rubbed at the gunk in his eyes. 

_ “It must be for the language I’m hearing. Why did you not call me?”  _

“If you’re on a hunt you don’t answer your phone unless it’s connected,” Harry finally managed to pry his eyes open. He was lying on his back. “I have something I don’t understand.” 

_ “I heard of your dealings with a certain vaudun priestess.” _

“Argh, that two-bit harlot,” Harry groaned. “How did she know about me?” 

_ “She has her ears to the ground. It’ll be about five days before I hit town perhaps less depending on circumstances. Will I be too late for the fun?” _

“Hopefully. Teddy is coming to live with me,” Harry murmured. “I have to wrap this rubbish up. I don’t like seeing toddlers eaten,” he said darkly. 

Edward was quiet on the phone when Harry said that. “ _ Salvador did it? _ ” then asked in a steel tone. 

“I don’t know. I have no fucking clue what I am dealing with. A zombie of sorts. No zombie I ever saw before. It’s like it had a mind of its own. It slaughtered the whole family. It ate the father, most of the mother and then kidnapped a three year old boy -  _ alive _ . It kept the child for two days, and then he was found this morning…  _ I don’t understand. _ ” 

_ “It sounds like a challenge.” _

“Nngh. You’re telling me. I have some contacts to run down. I’m glad you called, I have to get up.” He dragged himself out of bed and staggered like a drunkard to the ensuite. He almost dropped the phone in the sink as he pulled down the toothbrush and minty paste. 

_ “I’ll be in town in soon. If shit is still going down, I want some of it.”  _

“Bring your flamethrower.” 

_ “I always bring my flamethrower, Little Raven.” _ As they hung up, Harry could hear rustling downstairs. Rafael was still here? Surely not. 

Harry then paused and wondered where Edward happened to be that would take five days? He must be doing something else other than driving because it wouldn’t take that long even from Washington State or Maine to get to St. Louis. Being in the middle of America was kind of nice like that. Is he overseas? Edward had many passports. He was once in contact with Remus after all. Who knew where that man got to? He could be in the antarctic for all Harry knew. 

After scrubbing his teeth and then washing his face. Harry looked and felt much more awake. He rolled his neck and stretched his arms into the air. His back didn’t pop like Draco’s, but it did stretch nicely. 

He was still in his funeral clothes but without the vest and no shoes. He used some magic to rub the wrinkles out of the trousers and dark purple silk shirt. He didn’t expect to see Jean-Claude tonight as there was too much to do. 

It was still light out, but a rather hazy sort of light. It was getting darker earlier. Good for vampires, and if he wasn’t meeting this Irving fellow he could go straight to the cemetery. But as the child is already gone, he needed better information if he was going to keep another family from facing the same horror. 

As he padded downstairs, he found Rafael in the drawing room lounging on the sofa reading a book. 

“You look better,” he said, glancing over, deep brown eyes searching over him. 

“I feel it.” 

“Sorry about your phone ringing and disturbing you. I didn’t think I should answer.” 

“You can do whatever you want. It was Edward,” Harry said. “He always knows when I’m up to something.” He shook his head. “Man is like a radar.”

“Well honed skills. If you like we can eat at Dead Dave’s bar. He has a pretty good hamburger you can’t get anywhere else.” 

“Sounds good to me,” said Harry summoning the leather ankle length boots with an incline. 

Rafael was already up. “You know, I found this book on creatures, but I am more interested in the notations.” 

Harry laughed. “That’s my school book.” He said raising his head and smiling. 

“I couldn’t tell. Do unicorns really exist?” 

“Mhmm, and they come with a nasty price. Should you harm a unicorn or ingest its blood it will put a mark on your soul.” 

“Why would anyone drink it?” asked Rafael. 

“Power. They can keep almost anything alive, but at a terrible price. Most people can’t catch a unicorn being as fast as they are. Not even a lycanthrope, but there have been times when unicorns were victims,” he said remembering his first year. “People tend to be very crafty when they want something bad enough.” 

“No doubt.” 

“But, their horns and hair, if dropped or given freely, are in some of the most powerful potions in the world.” As they headed to the Riverfront with Rafael driving, the man asked more questions about the creatures he’d read about, and some of the notations in the book. 

Dead Dave’s was nothing but dark glass and beer signs lit up surrounded by a large parking lot. Harry had gone in a few times. Dead Dave was an ex-cop who still missed his job and would often use Harry as a go-between to feel as though he were still in the know. 

Did the police force not realize what they would have had if they’d kept a vampire on the force? He was sure that the overbearing load of crimes would reduce drastically if only because of rumors. Gangs and petty thieves would surely think twice knowing there was a legit vampire on their arses. A lot of detectives and cops visited Dead Dave’s, the ones who didn’t have a problem with his status as a vampire at least. In fact, to Harry, it would make a lot of sense if the RPIT squad consisted of vampires, lycanthropes, and humans working side by side. A lot more would get done, and a lot less lives would be at stake. 

It seemed like happy hour was in full swing. A lot of patrons, some men and women in business suits mingling and mixing before twilight could fully settle in. Rafael told Harry he was going to take a walk while he spoke with Irving. 

Harry had been given a rough description of the man, and found that it was pretty spot on when he spotted the man sitting at the rounded corner of the bar. He was grinning and looking around, watching everything carefully. 

Irving was a short well built balding man in a crisp white short-sleeved button down with a bow tie beneath his neck and a pair of blue jeans. He had a friendly round face, but his eyes were calculating. Harry had always made it a point to avoid reporters and the media as much as possible. Bert loved getting Harry in on snap-shots that would grace the papers as he was one of Animators Inc’s strongest animators. It also didn’t help that whenever a sensational murder happened that RPIT had to deal with, they spotted him as the expert and would make a beeline if he didn’t use magic to get out of it. 

“Irving Griswold?” Harry approached the man, slipping between two gentleman to get through. He slipped onto the stool as the man turned and grinned. 

“Harry Potter, one of America’s finest Animators! You’ve come to me at last.” 

Harry resisted groaning at the shiny smile. “Erm, right… I guess.” For one, he wasn’t American, but that didn’t seem to bother Irving Griswold. 

“You need information? You’ve come to the right place! I’m always looking for a new source, and my sources tell me that you are in the know about the new Master of the City.” 

He didn’t mince words did he? “All depends.”

Luther came around, a gigantic hulking black man with a nicotine addiction. So much so he carried an ashtray around that was always on the verge of overflowing. It was no surprise the whole bar had the scent of stale cigarettes mixed with fresh. 

“Hey Luther.” 

“Harry, what can I get you?” 

“Usual.” It meant a club soda with lime and only a trickle of alcohol. Just enough to look good, but not enough to get his system firing. 

“So, you are a regular here, hm?” Irving grinned. “I bet you know a lot of things, and since I know a lot of things, how about we make a deal? I am an investigative reporter. I’m not a paparazzi as you might think. I won’t shove a microphone beneath your nose.” 

That was a good sign. “So what is the difference? Sorry, but I’m not really on friendly terms with a lot of reporters. The last one I had to deal with was particularly nasty.” 

“I want the meaty stories, the ones with substances, and I like being on the move. I hear you’re quite active with the zombie legislation?” 

Ever since animating had become legal, more and more businesses had tried to replace workers with zombies. It didn’t work well and it wouldn’t, especially for long. Harry thought it was a disgusting practice. He and a lot of other Animators had been fighting it. Harry had funded several campaigns to stop it in its tracks, but only recently has it finally reached the American government. 

“I am. You could really put a spotlight on it?” 

‘You bet I can! I can also give you what you want. Harold Gaynor?” He had a large bound red folder with clippings and papers in it. 

“Is that everything?” he asked in surprise. 

“You bet it is. I had to promise a lot for this information. It’s not easy. So, what can you tell me about the new Master?” Irving whispered as Luther sat down the soda. 

“Cheers, Luther.” 

Luther nodded. “Dead Dave says hi.” 

“I’m always available. He knows my number,” said Harry smiling. He had meant to order a hamburger but the sight of the reporter had stunted his hunger momentarily. 

“You need to come around more during the night.” 

“I will once work lets up.” 

“A big one?” 

“Horrible,” said Harry quietly. 

“Oh?” Irving leaned forward. “Something worthy of the paper?” 

“Probably, but with a child involved I’m not handing it to you,” said Harry tightly causing Irving to look put out as Luther cast the werewolf an unimpressed look. 

“I suggest you take other talk to the back. Just wiped a table down.” 

“Thank you, Luther!” Harry patted his wrist gently as he took his drink, and Irving followed him to a corner booth that was rounded. It could easily fit five people. 

“Harold Gaynor is a big name. A big fish,” said Irving leaning forward so he could be heard over the sudden rise of voices and laughter. 

“I supposed he had to have been to try and offer me too much money for something that seems ridiculous.” 

“Oh?” 

“Best you don’t know. He has bodyguards and all kinds of security, like a child with a temper tantrum when he can’t get what he wants. Maybe once I’ve got enough on him, I can let you in on the story.” 

“Truly?” 

“Only if you don’t change my words,” said Harry sharply. “If you change what I say, I’ll never work with you again.” 

“Promise! Scouts honor!” said Irving, his fingers forming what he assumed was a boy scout sign of sorts. Harry wouldn’t know. “Besides an investigative reporter reveals the truth. They do not come up with their own truths.” 

“You’ll have to impress me with the truth then, Irving, to change my mind about how I feel about reporters. Now, Harold Gaynor.” 

Irving chuckled and wagged his finger. “ _ Ah ah _ , I want to hear more about this Master of the City first. I know you know. Your name has been circling the Riverfront. Once I received the message that you wanted to meet with me and needed information, I did some of my own investigative work.” 

Harry hadn’t realized that. Now, he was a bit unsettled. What did they know? He didn’t want to tell Irving that he was the human servant to the Master of the City. That could compromise safety in the worst of ways. Harry knew he might be known to be loose lipped and a bit candid at times; often to the point where Edward would glare and grind his teeth and then set fire to Harry’s arse for saying too much. 

But, even he knew when not to say something. He had a feel for these things after all. 

“I’ve heard that you’re the other kind of witch. I think it’s a wizard they call it? A hidden world for centuries, and only in the last decade or two have they come out and yet they are still relatively unknown. Most can’t tell the difference.” 

“That’s right,” Harry felt more comfortable with this line of questioning. “I am a wizard, and it is a big difference. In Europe it’s still against the law to let non-magicals know what you are unless they have no choice but to be told. You can see why I chose America to live, hm? Animating and necromancy is illegal. It’s even illegal to talk about it for too long back home, unless you risk suspicion.” 

“I could do a huge expose about that! I even heard that you have your own society, laws that are different from our laws, and even creatures!” 

“One thing at a time, Irving.” He was not ready to grace anymore pages. “Right now, I am not ready to grace anyone’s newspaper. I’d rather talk about the Master of the City.” He smirked when the man’s eyes lit up. “Can I take this home with me?” He tapped the folder. 

“Sorry, no can do. I had to promise my sister reporter my newborn just to get this. She’s doing a big piece on successful businessmen who aren’t what they seem.” 

Harry frowned, and then smiled. “Not a problem then.” Irving flinched when Harry suddenly had his wand in his hand. He loved it when it rested against his forearm. Just a flick and there it was, the holsters he had made the slide so much nicer. “ _ Gemino! _ ” He whispered and Irving gasped when the folder began to glow and then right next to it another appeared beside it, identical. 

Harry took the copy and set it aside. 

“You… you just did something that could rip every copyright law from existence!” He poked at the copy. “It’s real!” 

“Mhmm.” 

“You could make a fortune!” 

“Meh, I have a fortune. I don’t need any more.” 

Irving turned and looked Harry up and down. “I can see why the Master would want you. Now, tell me about him.” 

“Erm.” Harry scratched the side of his cheek and sipped on his drink as he tried to think of what he could say that Irving would be happy with, but not give so much away. “I met with him a few years ago. I inherited a lot of property on the Riverfront, and we’ve been working together to bring it back to its former prominence. He’s a brilliant businessman with a sharp eye, and an impressive intelligence.” 

“And his power?” 

“He’s a Master. I didn’t think I had to justify his strength to anyone or even mention it. He wouldn’t be master without that power.” 

“How did he depose the last Master of the City? There are a lot of speculations about it.” 

“He used not only his power but his brain. A Master of the City doesn’t deserve their title or their power if they can’t use their smarts. The last master was duped and by a human turned zombie no less. She couldn’t even smell him for what he was. The new Master of the City on the other hand dealt with it swiftly.” 

“You sound like you were there.” Irving grinned. 

“...” Harry ignored the insinuation. “Give me the highlights.” He tapped at his copy of the papers. 

Irving sighed, but he was still smiling. “He’s crippled in a wheelchair.” 

“Mhmm.” 

“He also likes his women crippled.” 

Harry blinked. “Wait, what? What do you mean by that?” He flashed back to Cicely the deaf woman. 

“Blind, wheelchair, amputee, whatever, old Harry’ll go for it.” 

Harry cringed at the very idea of sharing a name with this bastard. “Use Harold please.” He was so glad that his name was not a short form of anything. 

Irving chuckled. “Of course, sorry!” 

“He’d go for deaf too, I suppose?” 

“Likely.” 

“Why?” Did he want someone as broken as him? 

Irving shrugged as he finished off his whiskey. Harry hoped he didn’t get drunk like all the rest. Several men and women had bumped into their table, some laughing and snorting alcohol into their nose by accident. Harry knew that Luther and Dave weren’t all that pleased with the tourists and those who wanted to spot a glimpse just for kicks. But, it paid the bills and gave them extra. 

“Maybe it makes him feel better since he’s trapped in a chair himself. My fellow reporter didn’t know why he was a deviant, just that he was.” 

Harry wouldn’t call it deviance if he could believe Gaynor loved Cicely, but he was thinking that Gaynor probably couldn’t love anyone other than himself, and even that was subjective. 

“What else?” 

“He’s never been charged with a crime, but the rumors are real ugly. Suspected mob connections, but no proof. Just rumors.” 

Harry knew very little about American mobs and gangs. It wasn’t his area of expertise, and RPIT never bothered with them. Gang members and mobs were usually cowards about the supernatural. At least that’s what he’d heard. “Tell me more.” 

‘An old girlfriend tried to sue him for palimony. She disappeared.” 

Harry frowned. “Dead?” 

“Bingo!” 

“What does he do for the mob that would earn him bodyguards?” 

Irving grinned. “You’re becoming more and more interesting, Harry. You’ve met his security specialist, hm?” 

“Yes.” 

“My fellow reporter would love to sit down and have a chat with you.” 

Harry frowned. “I will only deal with one reporter thank you very much. I’m starting to like you. Let’s not backtrack.” 

Irving threw his head back with a chuckle. “Okay, okay. Just think about it sometime, okay? You’d be a hit!” 

“I don’t want to be anything,” said Harry trying not to let his voice rise too high in a panic. “Just want to do my job the best I can.” 

“That’s fine. It gives me more to work with anyway!” said Irving happily. 

“What’s he do for the mob?” he asked again. 

“Helps them clean money, or that’s what we suspect.” 

“Clean money?” Harry blinked not really knowing what that meant. 

“Running it through charities and through his enterprises so that it comes out all nice and legal like. You know, not leaving a paper trail.” 

“Ah.” He supposed he could see that happening. “No evidence then, hm?” 

“None.” Neither looked happy about it. 

Luther who had been shamelessly listening came over and placed his ashtray down on the rounded table. “He sounds like bad news, Harry. Free advice, leave him the hell alone.” 

Harry slumped with a sigh and smiled weakly at Luther. “I wish I could, but he won’t leave me alone.” 

“I won’t ask, I don’t want to know. You take care of yourself, kid.” Luther headed further down to refill a patrons glass. 

Irving on the other hand was not detoured. “I will ask. I do want to know.” 

Harry shook his head. “You really don’t.” 

“I know something you don’t know.” 

It was typical. Such a Slytherin tactic or maybe a Ravenclaw this time. He didn’t think Irving had what it takes to be a Slytherin. “Do I want to know it?” 

He bobbed his head. “Sure of it.” 

“Tell me.” 

“You first.” 

Harry slumped back. “Not on the record. You got it? Not until it’s over.” 

“Alright, not on the record. Is it good?” 

“He wants me to raise a three hundred year old zombie. I refused to do it.” 

“Why?” 

“It requires a human sacrifice. A live one.” 

Irving’s eyes widened. “Whoa! My sister reporter would go mad for this.” 

“Not yet,” Harry hissed. “If I find so much as an iota of information about Gaynor leaked right now. I will not be happy, and neither will the Master.” He had to use it, if only to keep it under wraps. 

“So sure that the master will protect you. You must really be in good with him,” Irving grinned. “Don’t worry, mums the word, Harry. I know a gold mine when I see it.” 

“I don’t need protection by the master. It’s protection for you,” said Harry calmly surprising Irving. “He’s a bit on the protective side.” Instead of outright fear that most would display at the veiled threat, Irving had a giddy expression.

“Plot thickens.” It was then that he pulled out a photograph from behind his back. “ _ Voila! _ ” He handed it over, and Harry took it. 

It was a black and white photograph of a woman. She couldn’t be more than in her twenties with long soft brown hair with just enough mousse to make it look spiky. It wasn’t a posed photograph. Much too casual and there was a look to her face of someone who didn’t know she was being photographed. 

Harry hated that. He remembered the way Skeeter and all the other reporters would follow him about like puppies. It made him nauseous. “Girlfriend?” 

“Ex-girlfriend. She’s known as Wheelchair Wanda.” 

Harry stared at him in confusion. “Why would she be known as that? I wouldn’t think she’d approve of someone calling out something that might be obvious. Seems kind of wrong to me that she’d have that moniker. It’s not her fault she’s in a wheelchair.”

Irving seemed to think Harry was joking. “You really don’t get it?” 

Harry shook his head. “Should I?” He looked back down at the photograph. “I get it she is his ex-girlfriend, but what am I missing?” 

“Well, Harry, she is a prostitute,” said Irving carefully. 

“A prostitute?” Harry looked at her again. “So, why is she called Wheelchair Wanda?” 

Irving whistled. “You really don’t understand do you?” 

Harry inwardly grumbled. He hated it when people looked at him like that. As though he were some alien from another planet. “Just tell me, Irving.” 

“She calls herself that, and it spread. You know, to get the right kind of clients.” Harry was now blinking at him more. Irving choked out. “God, you really don’t know?” 

Harry let out a low growl. “No, Irving, it’s obvious I don’t get it. I know what a prostitute is, but what I don’t know is why she would want to call herself that or let others do it.” 

“Deviance. Some people have a real kink for the handicapped.” 

“Why would it be deviant to sleep with a handicapped person? If it’s consensual and she likes it why would that make someone a deviant?” He shrugged, not seeing the problem. 

“Wow…” Irving leaned closer. “You’re kind of on the innocent side aren’t you?” 

“Shut up. Just tell me what I want to know.” Harry was proud of himself for not going tomato red. He was not giving Irving anymore ammunition. 

“Everyone has a kink right? A fetish that they prefer. You know like feet or spanking. Some men or even women like the handicapped.” 

“Okay, I think I get it,” Harry said. “Tell me more.” He really didn’t get it, and thought it was rude and flat out disturbing how amused Irving sounded. Is this how people treated others for simply trying to live? Call them deviants? Just didn’t make sense to him. 

“Wheelchair Wanda cruises the streets in her chair. She’s very popular with a certain crowd,” he tried to make it sound funny, but Harry wasn’t sure what was so funny about it. 

He had a feeling he should talk to her. “Where can I find her?” Irving blanched, and the very idea of him speaking to her or going to wherever she was seemed to drain his exuberance. “What?” 

“She’s afraid of Gaynor.” 

“She should be.” 

“Why do you think she’d talk to you and not us?” 

Harry smirked. “I’m good that way. Now, where does she hang out?” How else was he going to put it without being crude?

“Oh, man! You’re not kidding are you?” He wasn’t happy. He really wasn’t. 

“I never kid when it comes to something serious.” 

“She stays near a club called The Grey Cat.” 

“-And where is this location?” 

Irving was looking worse and worse. “Come on Harry…” 

“It’s on the main drag in the Tenderloin, corner of Twentieth and Grand. But, someone like you, Harry shouldn’t go down there alone.” Luther had returned. It was amazing how quiet this man could be. He was now wiping their table as a bit of ash had gotten on it. 

Irving bobbed his head. “Definitely not!” 

Harry sighed. “I hate to sound like a prat about gender roles, but I am not a woman so I don’t get it.” He hated those too. A woman could do just as much freaking damage as any man. Why would it matter? A person was a person after all. 

“Doesn’t matter,” said Luther. “You’re a  _ young _ pretty boy.” Harry did flush, and Irving choked at this. “They’ll eat you alive down there. All kinds on that strip. Men looking for women, women looking for men. Big men looking for boys or what they can pass off as a boy. Even older women looking for a young boy, and you fit the description.” Luther flicked his cigarette in disgust. Harry noticed it was a new one. “You’d be prime real estate.” 

“I can take care of myself,” said Harry, not liking where the conversation was heading. 

“You don’t look like you can,” Irving pointed out. “Are you even good with a gun?” 

“I’m good with a lot of things. Just because you don’t see what I have, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.” 

“Still don’t go alone, Harry. I don’t think the Master would appreciate it,” Luther reminded, and although Luther was a human he was very in the know around the Riverfront. He would know that Harry sort of belonged to Jean-Claude. He wouldn’t be surprised if Luther might very well be a human servant to Dead Dave. It would make a lot of sense. 

He thought this through. “Okay, maybe I can find Rafael. He went for a walk. Probably to track down his truck from Claudia.” 

“He would be a good one to take,” said Luther approvingly. 

“You know Rafael? Rom of the Rats?” Irving squeaked with a flash of excitement. Harry nodded. “Whoa! I really have gotten something good.” It seemed this man liked to repeat himself. Harry wasn’t sure if Jean-Claude would like him. 

Harry glowered at the man who didn’t seem to notice. He had a lot to do. “I need to get a move on. It’s going to be one hell of a busy night.” He didn’t think he’d be able to get to Wanda tonight.

Irving didn’t like the idea of Harry going anywhere without him. He left an extra large tip on the table for Luther just as the swinging door behind the bar opened and Dead Dave wandered out. 

It looked like everyone was up for the night. How long had he been sitting there with Irving, talking? He also wondered where Rafael had gone. He didn’t want to leave without him. He also realized they hadn’t eaten. He was hungry, but too busy to eat. 

Dave was a tall and wide man with short brown hair that had been balding when he died. But, lucky for him he didn’t lose anymore hair, but it never grew back either. He smiled widely at Harry flashing his fangs and getting the crowd going. Dave had liked Harry on contact, thought he was one of the rare good sorts as they shook hands. Harry really thought the police force was missing something. 

“Harry nice to see you, finally. You’ve been elusive.” 

“I wouldn’t be half as elusive if people would stop booking me three to four times a night.” 

Dave smirked. His cheeks were all rosy and flushed. He would almost look human if it weren’t for the stillness every so often and the fangs. “You packing tonight?” 

“Something like that.” 

“Ah yes, your magic.” And a gun, but Harry didn’t say it aloud. Dave looked at Irving. “How do you know newsboy over here?” He jerked his thumb at Irving. 

“Just met him. Seems alright for a reporter.” 

“Oi, why are you ganging up on me?” Irving squeaked. 

Harry couldn’t help but grin at the man. “Sorry, a bad habit and bad memories.” 

“You need to come around at dark so I can see you. So, I overheard you talking about going down to the Tenderloin, does the Master of the City know where you’re headed?” How he overheard that, in this bar, was ridiculous. Harry suspected that maybe Luther had a walkie-talkie crammed in his back pocket or something. Maybe even bugs to hear conversations. It didn’t bother him. He liked and trusted Dave. He was a good fellow. 

Harry cringed. “Probably not. He’s likely busy with something. I’ll see if I can hunt down Rafael.” 

Dave rubbed his chin. A human habit he never lost. “Better than nothing. But you should still give him the message.” 

“I will when I see him. If you do see him you can tell him the truth.” 

“Go on and get outta here, and be careful!” 

“I can go with him,” said Irving excitedly. 

Harry didn’t think that was a good idea at all. “If she won’t talk to a reporter, how am I going to get her to talk to me with you?” 

“Besides, he’ll likely be protecting you. Neither of you look like much, but he’s the one who is going to get picked up!” said Dave eyeing the reporter like he was meat. “He needs to watch his back. If he can get Rafael, all the better.” 

Harry said good-bye to Luther and Dave, thanking them both as they headed out into the first hour of the night. All the streetlights had popped on in perfect timing, and the stars above were twinkling with the barest hint of a moon poking through after it’s new phase. Harry couldn’t quite recall what it was named. Astronomy has always had the tendency to make him yawn, not to mention how badly he buggered his OWL. 

“You’re popular here,” said Irving. 

“That’s because I try to be honest.” 

Irving squawked indignantly. “Hey, I am honest!” 

“I didn’t say you weren’t.” 

“So, how close are you to the Master? It seems really close. First he doesn’t want you to put yourself in danger, and even Dave back there was worried about you not getting word to him.” 

“... Irving, asking questions like that on a first date is generally rude,” said Harry trying to play coy. 

“Come on, Harry. Give me something.” 

“Give you something? I’ve given you a lot. A whole lot more than most people, Irving.” 

Irving flushed as they walked together along the cobblestone, tourists and night visitors on each side of the walk. He was looking for Rafael. He wondered if he’d be at the Circus? He did briefly think about stopping in to let someone know where he was off to, but really Jean-Claude didn’t have to know where he was all the time. 

Right? He could take care of himself, and this was his case. He had to do it. If he really needed someone to watch his back, like truly or join in on the fun of things, he’d call Edward. Five days or not, if he wasn’t on the mark he would be there by daylight. 

Somehow. 

By now, Dolph and the gang would be at the cemetery, and waiting for him. But, he also needed to get to this street and meet this woman. So much to do in the night, and it had only truly begun. 

_ Rafael, where are you? _ Harry thought. 

It was as they were rounding the corner that a figure with a hint of rose scent detached itself from the darkened buildings that had no light. Harry saw him first, Irving was still gabbing about something or another, Harry had spaced out to better think on where the lycanthrope could be. 

He smiled when the man approached him, gliding like a dancer without stopping. His curls and perfect face illuminated beneath the street light. Harry stopped causing Irving to almost smack into him. 

“Mon belle,” Jean-Claude’s midnight eyes seared into Harry as he moved closer. Irving let out a noise when Jean-Claude ignored him completely, and cupped Harry’s cheeks below the ear as though he were trying to catch water or wine in his palms. 

Harry leaned up on his toes and kissed the man softly, but Jean-Claude never did let it stay too tender for long, and he deepened the kiss sending the street around him and all its loud happy people freezing completely. 

“Enchanting night for a stroll. I see my information passed hands.” He still wasn’t looking at Irving. 

“Sure did. I was hunting up Rafael, you know the one you put in place as my guard.” He poked Jean in the chest causing him to smirk. 

“It had to be done, mon belle. I could not leave you alone. Seems I was right. You needed him. But, I think I can accompany you in whatever you are trying to accomplish,” he said his voice like velvet, and finally he turned to Irving who pointedly looked away. Oh right, the eyes. Harry forgot that a vampire shouldn’t be looked at in the eyes. “Irving Griswold, I presume?” 

“Er, yes,” stammered Irving with his head bowed in submission. 

Harry didn’t introduce them. If Jean-Claude wanted him to know anything then he would tell him. “He’s really helped me out. Never knew a reporter I liked until now.” 

Jean-Claude smirked. “Excellent.” 

Irving frowned. “What’s going on? You know of me?” He was still keeping his eyes averted. 

“Richard speaks much about you and your credentials,” he said barely above a whisper. Irving was now entirely confused, and Jean-Claude stepped away from Harry. “Look at me,” he ordered silkily and instantly Irving raised his head. “I hear you are looking for information on the Master.” 

“Erm, yes - yes, I am.” 

Harry was surprised by the trickle of magic and power he could feel flowing from around Jean-Claude. It was breezy like to the point where his hair was twitching. He was the all powerful master, and Harry was seeing that in him. 

“Harry what is going on?” Irving asked. 

Harry looked at Jean-Claude who inclined his head. “It is about time, and perfect moment for all to know.” 

Irving flicked his eyes between Jean-Claude and Harry, and let out a gasp. “You’re the Master!” He almost said too loudly causing Jean-Claude to seize him by the shirt so fast that if one blinked they would have missed it. 

“Do keep your tongue in check,” he said still polite and crisp. “You wish to interview me, yes?” 

“Really? That would be great, I’ll do it anyway you want. It…” the man began spluttering to the point of spitting. 

“ _ Silence _ ,” Jean-Claude hissed losing the politeness, and Irving went stone quiet. 

“Jean,” Harry didn’t want to undermine the Master of the City. “He’s a nice guy.” 

“I know mon belle, but order needs to be kept. You may see a lot of me as something entirely different many nights. Tongues need to be in check, spluttering need not occur.” 

“Least let him go?” 

“You are precious, mon belle.” He let go of Irving who almost stumbled. 

“S-sorry.” He dropped his eyes to the ground, but then raised them to look back and forth, inquisitive nature for sure. He was shaking as though something had wrapped around his mind and neck, and began to tug and tease. 

“You alright, Irving?” 

“Y-yes. Just have never felt anything like him before,” he heaved, his limbs jittering as though he were made of gelatin. 

Harry didn’t really understand. Jean-Claude felt normal to him, well except he was breathtaking and often caused Harry to shiver and think things he hadn’t considered before. Irving’s face was flushed red like a tomato, and his eyes were wide and glittering. 

“What is your plan, mon belle?” Jean-Claude asked, turning his attention onto Harry as though Irving had disappeared completely. “What do you wish to do?” 

“I can’t get to what I want to do tonight,” he said holding up the file. “But, if I could borrow some of your time tomorrow when I have to meet with a woman, I would appreciate it. I have to go to the Grey Cat.” 

Jean-Claude hummed. “I would be honored to remain at your side for the evening. Do you know the Laughing Corpse just down the street?” 

“I think so. Is that the property you converted last month?” 

“Oui. Meet me there. You will have exclusive entrance. What is your plan tonight?” 

“Hunting,” said Harry. “For what I’m not sure.” 

“And your other thing? The more pleasant adorable one?” 

He meant Teddy. “I had to put him off for the moment. I had an emergency. We found him. He was alive for two days,” he said tightly as he looked down. “Looked like Teddy, asleep. I’m going to try and hunt. Too bad I have to do it with the RPIT squad.” 

Jean-Claude’s face didn’t transform into anything. It was blank, but his palm that brushed along Harry’s arm soothed him, and his eyes glittered with a touch of emotion. “Do take care for now, I think I will grant this reporter’s wishes.” He turned back to Irving who flinched dramatically. 

Really? He wasn’t that scary! What was Jean-Claude doing to his head? Harry decided that he’d had enough overstepping the man’s boundaries of Master. Irving was a werewolf, and they were Jean-Claude’s animal to call. If Harry tried to undermine him over every little piece of power play then he would be doing the exact opposite of what they all wanted. He’d have to suck it up, and remember that Jean-Claude is now a leader. He had to make tough decisions, and sometimes be an arse. Harry could live with it. He reached up and kissed Jean-Claude’s cheek causing his double lashes to flutter. 

“If you wish for Rafael to return…” 

“No, he should do his own thing. He doesn’t need to baby-sit me, and I really need to do this myself. Just something I feel I must. If I can’t handle it, what use am I being your human servant?” 

“Do not say that.” He caressed Harry’s cheeks.

“It’s true. I’ll be here tomorrow. What do I wear?” 

“I’ll send you something.” 

“Of course you will.” He could only imagine what he would receive. 

“You are not complaining with what you are wearing now, mon belle. You look enchanting in royal purple. Like a Prince.” He smiled wide without showing his teeth. 

Harry wanted to roll his eyes, but he noticed a lot of tourists had gathered about. Some were trying to flash cameras. Harry casually waved a hand between them causing one of the cameras to start smoking, and the tourist to squeal frantically. “Mhmm, let’s keep the royal thing to you, Jean. I better go, all these looky-loos are more scary than any vampire.” Jean-Claude chuckled quietly behind his long fingers. 

Irving squeaked as though Harry was out of his mind. “You’re not serious, Harry?” 

“I am. You okay alone?” he grinned as Irving flickered over to Jean-Claude and back. 

“I’ll be fine. I need this interview.” 

“Okay. I’m not here to hold your hand. Thanks for this.” He held up the folder. He hated research, but at least most of it was done for him. Now all he had to do was sort it. Lucky him. 

“Y-yeah. You’ll keep in touch? We’ve only barely scraped the barrel!” 

“We’ll see,” said Harry dubiously. 

“Until then, mon belle.” Jean-Claude took Harry’s hand and kissed it. He got the crowd excited, and Harry could only smile because what else was he going to do? 

“Show off.” 

Jean-Claude stepped closer until they were nose to nose. “Hm. Showing off has its advantages.” 

“Go do your interview.” Harry poked. “No more distracting me. I have to go hunt in a cemetery, and try to keep humans who don’t understand alive.” He then huffed. “You know, they don’t know what they’re missing. If they had someone like Dead Dave on their payroll St. Louis would probably be a proper place without the crime!” He grumbled. 

“Perhaps one day, mon belle.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, maybe not in our lifetime.” Jean-Claude arched a brow. “Seriously, another few centuries, maybe. If we can only get that lucky.” One last kiss, and Harry was heading back to Dead Dave’s bar. 

He would deal with Wanda later, and he wouldn’t be calling her Wheelchair Wanda, that just seemed so rude how could Irving think that was amusing? How could anyone really. It wasn’t amusing, disabilities weren’t an amusement. 

_ Hm _ , maybe Jean-Claude could bully him a bit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: In the books, this was the first time Anita truly pissed me the hell off. The scene with her and Irving. I didn't think it was humorous or funny regarding Wanda and her situation. So I admit I may have been projecting myself into Harry. Except for the naive nature of course. So it was so fucking satisfying to write it.


	9. Chapter Nine

#  Chapter Nine

Death Magic did not have a look to it, it was more like it had a feel. It was like an invisibility cloak in that way. You could feel it. A trickle like water hovering above the ground, and if it had a look made for film or TV of sorts then he would go with a dark purple/black mist with a glitter, but in truth it wasn’t. It was not tangible, and only Harry could feel it as he stood at the base of Burrell Cemetery. Behind him was Dolph, and two exterminators. A man and a woman. Neither of them looked excited to be there, the man was caressing his flamethrower, and also holding it wrong. 

Edward would either be amused or sneering, depending on the day he was having. There was only one reason why Harry mentioned having them there in the first place. It was because of Dolph. If for some reason Harry hadn’t been able to get there in time, and Dolph went off on a search and got himself killed how the hell could he tell his family or the rest of the police that it was because he hadn’t been there? No. Just no. He’d rather the city be out some money for overtime than risk Dolph. 

He asked them to give him space. A good twenty or thirty yards as their own essence was interfering with the humming in the air that only he could sense. His skin prickled, goosebumps began to trail along his arms as he began to walk through the high and dry grass. Merlin above, if that exterminator got trigger happy they’d all go up in flames, and even Harry wouldn’t be able to douse it in time. 

To be on the safe side, Harry reached down and removed his shoes and socks. He didn’t want to risk missing out on any signals from the magic. They could be subtle at times.

“What are you doing?” asked the man with the flamethrower. 

“Lately, I’ve been able to feel things with my shoes, but without I can get closer.” He tucked them away in a rucksack he had brought with him, and he began to walk the cemetery. Over the bumps and coffins below ground. 

Swirls of misty ice covered his skin as one disembodied ghost, only a bit visible, began to glide up his trouser leg. Harry let his hand dangle, and the spirit brushed it as though saying hello or enjoying the acknowledgment. Ghosts were only dangerous if you let them be, but for someone like Harry they were more a comfort than anything. Living with ghosts for seven years could do that to a fellow, and if a Necromancer was scared of a ghost, they had no right to be one in the first place. 

Necromancer was a term that encompassed all death, and that was why most were called Animators. It was a soft word, and gave people the idea that what they did was more akin to a circus act rather than something so very complicated and full of magic that is naturally dark. 

Light and dark magic had to exist. If one was without the other too long bad things tended to happen. It was a natural order. It was not evil to use or embrace dark magic. No natural order was inherently evil. What was evil was when it was abused, and because dark magic was richer and more destructive inherently it was the one who got the bad rep. Light magic could be abused and be turned to evil. Most mind magics were light magic. Anything that gave up free will for something else. In fact, the Imperius Curse was a light spell with a light feel. It only became dark because some pretentious bastard said so. Occlumency was considered light magic and Legilimency was considered the dark counterpart, but that was also not true. Both were light magic with definitely a light feel when used. 

His feet moved over rocks and sticks, more ghosts trailed out around him. One swooped in front of him, and Harry paused and tilted his head with a small comforting smile. The ghost seemed to consider him for a moment before moving in increasingly larger circles. The way it acted reminded Harry of the children running about a circus or play house. Some non-magical ghosts remain restless until they puffed away. 

Magical ghosts could remain for centuries, but they only remained solid enough if the magic in the area was strong. It was why Hogwarts was home to so many. 

The Death Magic in the cemetery was old, but it was strong. He suspected that things were housed here that no one knew about. Fresh deaths, hidden away from the world never to be thought of or dug up again.

Some of the mist that danced around him reminded him of big glowing fireflies. As the ground sloped beneath his feet, he was aware of a whisper. A  _ careful where to walk _ tickling his ear. He made sure to step over the grave of a nearby ghost. It caressed his ankle with a thanks. He could feel the sunken grave, the give of the earth. He used his hand to make a motion for the others to walk outside of him. 

Amongst the gentle ghosts that flew around and touched him beneath the ground, he could also feel anger and contempt. Some spirits had a fury against those that were still alive. Some were angry thanks to violent deaths, and the one in that unmarked old grave was one angry spirit. Harry could feel it’s fury up his skin. He hoped he was never asked to raise that one’s body as a zombie.

Harry kept his senses stretched out sweeping along the graves and feeling the reactions of those below. A cold wind blew even in the heat of the night. No one would feel it but him. No one would understand what he was doing or what it felt like. Harry had only felt like this a few times before when he was younger, but he never acknowledged it. He’d always pushed it away and out of his mind.  _ Necromancy was bad. Necromancy was evil _ . Professor Dumbledore had turned him away from using his gifts, but he’d always had an affinity with the dead. 

All of the Hogwarts ghosts liked him, even the Bloody Baron near the end had taken to nodding at him with respect. He had been unsettled in second year during that Death Day Party, but also a part of him was fascinated. He hadn’t realized it then, but his magic seemed to comfort the ghosts. Nearly Headless Nick had always made a beeline for him, and not since Voldemort himself did anyone ever get a chance to speak to Helena, the daughter of the House of Ravenclaw. But, she spoke to him as if he had commanded her rather than asked. He hadn’t used his charm or any of that. He simply asked, and she told him. Moaning Myrtle on the other hand... Harry’d really rather not talk about that. 

He could feel the ghosts nudging him in another direction. A direction of something that had been disturbed. He thanked them silently, sending a pulse of his own magic beneath the ground; helping feed the pool of Death Magic in the graveyard. He could feel nearby that same hot tempered ghost beneath the ground was soothed as though he had sung a baby to sleep. 

He moved more assuredly going in the direction of the helpful spirits. He continued to send his own pulses of magic deep inside the earth. It seemed to help them, and finally he stopped when he felt the empty grave. 

He knelt down on all fours, his palms bare and flat to the surface. He could feel that it had been turned a few times. The marble tombstone was crumbling and had no inscription. That was okay. He didn’t need it for this. 

“Get back,” Harry ordered Dolph and the others he could feel had moved closer. 

Once they were out of the interference area, Harry took a shallow breath and swept a hum of warm magic over himself. It was like the world stilled and the stars in the sky stopped glittering as they froze. No wind, no heat. Nothing. If he had been looking at himself, he’d have noticed the glow of his eyes. 

He could feel the bits of wood decaying into the earth. No trace of bone or flesh. Not even cloth except for the coffin. Earth dry and hard from the drought, but the grass and weeds had been disturbed. 

Something had been here, someone had been here. More than one perhaps. It was gone, coffin disturbed. He then closed his eyes, and tried to sink into the ambiance. His hands and knees moving to the marble stone. 

He was not a psychic. That was not what he did. He did not like Divination or any of that, but Death Magic liked to reveal things to him. Ever since he was a baby, he’d always see glimmers of things ahead. A dream of Professor Quirrell’s turban strangling him when he had no damn idea about Voldemort being stuffed on his head. A dream of waltzing with Professor McGonagall, a death waltz, Harry later learned. A signal that someone nearest them would die. He took that as Professor Dumbledore dying, and knowing before he saw it. He had even dreamed of Snape’s death. A painful liquid would enter Harry’s veins through his dreams. Snape never did scream. He was much too dignified for that. He hadn’t understood it at all then. 

As he sank away from the world around him, the hot splash of crimson blood flowed like a tap across his vision. A flickering image like an old film strip played, screams wrenched their way inside of him, coiling around his soul to tighten. He saw a wrist and a bracelet. A silver one with music notes, hearts, and bow and arrow dangling. He could feel her life fading. 

As the moment faded away it felt like an age had passed even though it was only an instant, and the world came rushing back. All the sound, the color, the smell of parched grass, and crickets jammed together through his senses. His hands and knees covered in dirt. He took in a heavy gulp of breath, and realized that he was on his back staring up at the diamond speckled sky. A lot of sweat was rolling down off him, more so than all the summer combined. His hair was damp as he sat up with a deep breath. He folded his legs much like a pretzel, sitting on the empty grave as though he were enjoying a kip. 

“Something came from here,” he said into the distance toward the rustling of three humans that probably wondered what the hell he was doing. 

Dolph moved swiftly. Harry could feel the thundering of his feet. “What the hell happened? You fell to the ground.” 

“Sorry, sometimes the Death Magic really grabs at you,” said Harry dryly. He wiped his hands of the dirt. “A woman was here, but she’s not anymore.” 

“How can you know?” 

Harry looked up at Dolph. “Animation is not a circus act, Dolph. It is a real magic that calls upon Death Magic every day of our lives. Some are born with the gift, and others have to nurture it. I’m kind of both. I was born with it. Ignored it. Reignited and it was nurtured after it was reignited again. As you can imagine when you die everything stops, and so when Death Magic comes knocking everything stops. Sorry I didn’t warn you.” He told Dolph what he felt, and how there was no body in the coffin below them. 

“Is it the killer zombie?” 

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was tied in somehow.” Salvador came to his mind, but he didn’t say it. 

“You can’t be more specific?” 

“The images I see are not chosen. I am not a psychic. It shows what it wants me to see. Most of the time I barely understand it until something happens.” 

Dolph grumbled. “Seriously? Is this all?” 

“It’s a start. A place to start. One time I was eleven, and when I didn’t even know the word animation or necromancy, I had a dream of a professor’s turban attacking me in my sleep. I had no idea about anything. Come to find out later in the year that he had been possessed. It was wrapped in that turban. Something was on the back of his head. Something that the power wanted me to see, but I didn’t understand it then. If I see more clues I can probably help better.” 

“So where does that leave us?” 

“Something went wrong here. It might be our zombie or it might have been a human sacrifice to raise our zombie. Or it too was a zombie. That is good news. If this one was successful, then this is a later one.” 

“Shit, two of them?” 

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think the first one was accidental. It wasn’t meant to get away.” 

“Right, and you still think John Burke might be good for it?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe.” 

Dolph scowled. “I hate maybe.” 

“Me too.” Harry finally rose, and brushed himself off. 

“This could be a mad man running around doing this.” 

“Let’s hope not, because then we won’t have a pattern,” said Harry wiping the sweat from his face. He could taste the salt in his mouth, and a ghost fluttered nearby to caress him as if to comfort. 

He smiled slightly at it, Dolph thankfully didn’t notice. “If I were you I’d dig up the coffin,” he said frowning at the idea. He didn’t like it, the ghosts didn’t like it, but he used some magic to calm them. Promise them that whatever happened, he would get them peace somehow. 

“Why? If there is no body in it, what’s the point?” 

“Might tell us something. Evidence, DNA?” 

Dolph huffed. “Right, I should have known that. I am the lead detective. Where is my mind?” 

“At home cuddling your wife,” Harry chirped, and Dolph’s lip twitched. “Understandable really.” 

“I’ll get an exhumation order.” 

“I can do it right now…” 

Dolph snorted. “No, I have to play by the rules. You won’t dig it up will you?” 

“Not unless you ask me to. You think there will be enough evidence to take this to court?” 

“Definitely.” 

He didn’t even have a suspect, and if Salvador did have her fingers in this, which he was betting his entire trust of gold on, then it would never see the light of day. Dolph would never know. It would be a cold case to him. Or at least as cold as he could get it. He would rather it grow cold than for Dolph to have to deal with Salvador. 

It was safest that way. 

oOo

As the moonlight spilled through the room from the half closed drapes, Harry had thought he would be afforded a full nights sleep. But, Harry’s clock was a pain in the arse at times. He’d slept earlier that day, and had wasted most of the daylight, which was fine by him. It wasn’t like the daylight afforded him much in the way of entertainment after all. Not these days anyway. 

But, he couldn’t sleep. His mind was replaying images of that night. He could still feel the Death Magic clinging to his skin, the contact was like static making the tiny white hairs on his arm rise. He half a mind to head to Riverfront or do something. It was about three o’ clock. He had a few hours before Jean-Claude would migrate back inside the Circus for the oncoming morning. 

Harry let out a sigh. Jean-Claude, Master of the City. He saw that tonight in the flesh. He had a feeling that it was only a taste of what he had beneath the soothing seduction deep inside of him. 

He wondered briefly why he was unaffected of these powers that the vampires had. Even before the two marks Harry hadn’t been affected at all by rolling and mesmerizing. He still remembered that it had been Edward’s first word of warning about vampires. Do not make eye contact with them. But, Harry had been unable to resist looking at Jean-Claude that first time they met. 

He rolled and made to get up when he heard a crash down below, and something acrid floated up through the floorboards. 

_ What the hell? _

Another crash, and Harry was on his feet. His wand flying into his hand from beneath his pillow. 

He wondered briefly if it was Draco who had come back sloshed, but he wasn’t due back for another few days, and never in this world would Draco smell like that. 

And then his eyes widened and he smacked his forehead with his palm as he quietly rushed downstairs to the entrance hall where four zombies stood all with various stages of decay making their way towards him, knocking over the flowers that Jean-Claude had always sent him. 

Yes, more had appeared when he got home. A beautiful set of mixed blue and white this time. 

One of zombies had been a hulking large man in another life. Of course, his wards wouldn’t detect them. They were dead. No soul, nothing to really use to let him know that someone or something was there. 

Another was behind him, and Harry quickly rolled to the side. Tommy must have told Salvador where he lived or she already knew. Dammit, he needed more on this crazy woman! 

He flung a series of fireballs, hitting three in the gut causing them to let out an earthy groan as they doubled over onto the floor, and if that wasn’t enough more kept coming. These zombies were unafraid of magic, and though the three he attacked were squirming and writhing on his once sparkling floors, they were still trying to come at him. 

If they’d had souls, the proximity ward might have stopped them. But they didn’t. They were mere husks. Something the wards wouldn’t count on or protect him from. If they’d had souls, he could use the killing curse, but the killing curse’s target was the soul. It was useless in this situation. 

He had to think fast before they overwhelmed him. He dodged a flailing limb reaching for him and quickly headed to the kitchen, and stood by the stove as they all began to pile in. He snapped his fingers the moment they were in position and the silver cage that had trapped Edward last month came shooting down. He grimaced when one had been part way out of the cage’s perimeter, and it split right through the zombie as it crashed down. It was still trying to move, both parts of it. 

He wasn’t about to use Fiendfyre in his own home. He’d have to transport them outside for that. He was pretty sure the cage would hold. It was reinforced steel plated in silver. 

Harry heard another crash. “What the hell? How many did she have?” He moved over the table, ignoring the pounding and smacking against the cage. Four more. “Great!” He moved around them when one that seemed to have been behind something and still, grabbed onto his back. 

He let out a gasp as it wrapped around his throat with it’s scabbed decaying arm. He heaved a breath and used his elbow to hit, but the zombie didn’t seem to feel it. 

“ _ Expelliarmus! _ ” He cried out sending the creature back causing Harry to grimace as its long curved filthy nails scratched like razors along his cheek and neck. 

Harry continued to fireball them, and tried to lead them out of the house. Careful as he was to check the area for more of them. 

She must have been summoning hard, and he must have really pissed her off. He grimaced when one of the zombies he had caught on fire decided to ram into him like a Slytherin Beater. It burned his skin, and the flames were hot and sooty eating at his own flesh. He hissed and stumbled on the steps, twisting his ankle as he fell on his back. 

He turned at the perfect time, as another came down on him. His pajama bottoms singed with black holes. 

Finally, they were away from his house. “Fiendfyre!” he growled with as much strength as he could muster. 

As the lava like beasts poured out of his wand in a great arc, each of the zombies stood no chance before they were consumed by the mouths of the creatures created by the flames. All of the zombie turned into ash with not even bone for identification. 

Harry sucked in a gulp of air as the night went silent. His body ached with the sharp cuts and burns. His skin almost too hot touch. Blood was pouring down the side of his face and neck. He grimaced. Now he had to deal with the others in his kitchen. 

Thank Merlin Teddy wasn’t here. He’d never forgive himself if the child had to see that. Another surge of pain crawled through him as he tried to move on his ankle. It was like knives that had been coated with heat were stabbing at him. 

He could hear the groaning and hollering from his kitchen. He sighed. If only he had a real bottom to his cage. He could levitate it out. Harry wasn’t sure if he could run or move on a bad ankle, but he needed to get them out of his house so that he could finish them off. 

As he entered the kitchen to see them all, the zombies went still and were now staring at him. He realized that they were looking at the blood with real hunger. Of course, blood enticed them. He touched his neck and the shiny red coated his hand, and looked back at the zombies.  _ No, that’s impossible, _ Harry thought.  _ You can’t control someone else’s zombie. _ It couldn’t be done. Even Voldemort’s tomes had said that once a zombie was raised under the power of the Necromancer it would only listen to that Necromancer unless it was transferred to another by ritual. 

What did he have to lose? A limb or two? He had Skelegro. He was sure he could grow it back. He needed them out of his house, and he needed it yesterday. 

“If I give you some will you be good-boys?” He asked dully. The zombies began to push against the cage, all clustered together. He moved with confident steps toward the cage. He didn’t fear them. “One at a time please!” He demanded trying to put some magic through his voice, and surprisingly most backed off except for the largest one. 

“Here goes nothing.” He twitched when the zombie’s scabbed hand clutched him and brought his hand to it’s mouth and began to suck greedily. It’s eyes roaring with a strange kind of half life. It was hard to describe. “Okay, that’s enough! Next one. You step back and be good!” Geez, were they pets now? It did shuffle back, and another was soon clasped to his hand. 

He repeated this process until all of them were quiet and subdued staring at him. “Okay, let’s test this before I release you. You. _ Erm _ . Spin around?” Almost immediately the zombie began to privot. “You? Go to the other side of the cage.” It did. “Alright.” Now he couldn’t kill them. It wasn’t their fault that Salvador had sent them. 

But, where did they come from? Surely there was a spell or something he could do to send them back even if he wasn’t near their place of rest. It was only okay to defeat a zombie if it was attacking or threatening. No longer were these guys trying to attack him. In fact, they looked at him with a scary sort of endearment. 

If he was Edward, he’d just blow them away. He wouldn’t care. Harry wished in that moment he could be like Edward. But, he couldn’t. He waved his hand and the cage lifted. He flinched when the zombies ambled toward him and began to circle. One tried to pet his hair. 

“You can speak,” said Harry to the one with a mouth. The others were too decomposed to speak. 

“Sorry. Sorry,” it’s voice a low baritone groan. 

“Who brought you here?” Harry asked. 

“Her. She.” 

“Salvador?” Most of them nodded. Harry took a breath. “I’m sorry too then. I don’t like hurting the dead unless I have a choice. Do you know where you’re buried? I can take you back to rest.” 

“Burrell Cemetery.” 

“Oh really?” Harry’s eyes narrowed. Did she have him followed? Had she been watching them? “I guess you don’t know when you were pulled do you?” The zombie shook its head as another began to touch him, and then licked it’s own fingers of the blood as was natural. 

After this, there was no way he could go to Burrell Cemetery alone. He had to get someone with him. She had gotten him this time. She’d overwhelmed him and in a house that he thought he was safe in. 

_ Sly bitch _ , Harry thought. He never used that word. He hated it. He thought it was derogatory for men and women. But, he thought it fit her. 

Harry summoned the cordless to him, and he asked the zombies to be good and take a seat. It was bizarre to see them flopping on the floor like dogs. One was rubbing up against his ankle and leg as he let it. He tried Circus of the Damned first. 

“Hello?” He recognized the voice vaguely as Jason. 

“Hey Jason, this is Harry. I need to speak to Jean.” 

“Oh, hey Harry!” the younger man chirped on the other line. “You got lucky, Master Jean-Claude has only just returned.” 

Harry almost yelped when one of the zombies chewed on his pajama leg. “Oi, you know I don’t have much of that left right? Here have some blood.” Harry placed his hand to the creature’s mouth, and he wrinkled his nose as it began to suck. 

“Excuse me?” Jason squeaked in alarm, and Harry could hear him moving about from room to room. “Did you just say something about giving blood?” 

“Eh, yeah. I have a situation on my hands right now.” In a sense that was far too literal. Harry sighed as he used more of his flowing blood to feed the zombies. Keep them good. At least it was getting some use. 

“Okay! One second.”

It was then a thought occurred to him. “Since when did Jean get a cordless?” He only remembered an old fashioned rotary phone. 

“Earlier tonight. Rafael helped him install another phone.” 

“Ah.” 

“So how you doing, Harry?” 

“Oh, you know, playing with dead things,” he said eyeing the rather content zombies. One was now playing with the patterns in the floor. He felt bad for the three he had burned, they were black from head to toe with no hair left, but what choice did he have? He offered them some more of his blood. His only way of apologizing. 

“Is that a euphemism? It’s not very nice.” 

“No. Vampires aren’t dead, Jason. They are very much alive.” 

“Really?” 

“Mhmm, they have souls.” 

“Interesting to know. Master, Harry wishes to speak to you.” 

“I’ve told you multiple times to call me Jean-Claude you know, Jason,” said the beautiful voice. 

“I would, but if Marcus and Raina don’t take me seriously…” He trailed off, and Harry heard something like a strangle in his voice. 

_ Fear _ . 

“ _ Oui _ , I will allow it for now,” said the vampire’s distant voice. Harry heard the phone’s movement. “Mon belle, what can I do for you on this splendid evening?” 

“Jean, sorry to bother you.” 

“Non, please do not think you could ever bother me.” 

“Heh, I have a situation on my hands.” 

“Oh?” 

“Erm, it’s hard to explain. But, Salvador sent over a dozen zombies to my doorstep tonight.” 

Jean-Claude made a small noise. “Are you alright, mon belle?” he asked with a bit of urgency. 

“Surface wounds, nothing that won’t heal. But, uh, I need someone to come with. I need to get four of them back to the cemetery.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s hard to explain over the phone, and I am actually a little worried about going out alone. She got them from Burrell Cemetery, the exact place I was at tonight. If she’s watching me, I don’t want to have to fight anymore off.” 

“Of course, mon belle. You sit tight. Please be at ease.” As they hung up, Harry moved slowly, and slid into a chair nearby.

His ankle was thudding, and he brought it up to rub as the zombies turned to look at him. “Don’t worry. I’m going to lay you all back to rest. I’m sorry you were pulled into this mess.” 

One of them sluggishly moved toward him, let out a soft moan and then rested it’s head on Harry’s knee. Another started petting him. 

Harry hesitated, and then gave him a comforting pat on the head. He really needed to clean up. He didn’t want to startle whoever Jean-Claude brought. He was expecting Rafael. 

He flinched when he heard the sound of his door, all the zombies were also looking at the door of the kitchen. 

“Holy shit!” He heard Jason’s voice call out. “Big house, but looks like something went crazy in here. Smells - dead. Harry!” 

“In the kitchen!” Did they fly? Lucky! Harry thought as he called back. 

“You have to invite Master Jean-Claude in!” 

“ _ Jean-Claude has permission to always enter my house! _ ” Harry shouted back. 

Jason was the first to appear in the doorway. He swore again when he saw the scene around him, and then he smelled Harry’s blood. He began to flinch and his eyes grew wide with innocence. “H-Harry…” 

Jason had fallen on his knees, clutching himself. 

“Are you alright?” Harry made to get up, forgetting about his own pain when he stumbled on his bad ankle causing him to fly forward. 

Jean-Claude appeared in the doorway right then, and before he could catch Harry first, the biggest zombie that could talk grabbed him, and pushed him up. “Thank you.” 

“Sorry. Sorry.” It said to him again. 

“No more sorries. You have my forgiveness,” Harry soothed. 

It beamed at him toothily or what teeth it had left. All of three. 

“Merde, what on earth happened here?” Jean-Claude asked looking Harry over. Jason was still shaking on the floor. Harry needed to get to him as he hobbled. “Non, do not!” Jean-Claude held his arm out to stop Harry. “He must learn.” 

“What? What are you talking about?” 

“He is a new cub. He must learn control,” said Jean-Claude gazing down at his Pomme. 

“He looks like he’s in more pain than me. You can’t learn anything if you’re in such pain like that. It isn’t his fault.” 

Jean-Claude raked his eyes up and down Harry’s body, taking in the burns and cuts. “You do smell fabulous, I can understand his-” he drew in a sharp breath, staring at Harry a bit wider than usual. “ _ Hunger _ .” the vampire was cut off by a mewling sound, and a movement across the floor between the zombies that watched him blankly. 

Jason was crawling on all fours, his sky blue eyes wide with want and he gripped Harry’s leg and tried to climb up him. 

“Non!” Jean-Claude ordered causing Jason to whimper, and draw back. 

“It’s okay, Jean,” Harry said gently as he crouched down, grimacing as the pain split when he put pressure on his ankle. “Come here, Jason.” He held out his hand, and Jason threw himself on Harry. His arms looping around his waist, and his nose went face first into the bloody gashes. Harry winced when Jason’s palm touched the burns on his side. Jean-Claude carefully stepped around the zombies on the floor. 

“You are full of empathy, mon belle,” purred Jean-Claude with a deep sigh as he watched Harry stroke Jason’s baby fine hair. “You are hurt. You need care. What happened here tonight?” He looked at all the zombies looking up at them. 

Harry carefully rose with Jason still locked around him. The young man slid down to hold him around the waist, nuzzling his stomach. It wouldn’t be so bad if Jason’s arms weren’t brushing against his raw sides. 

He told Jean-Claude what had happened, and when he was finished, he had managed to sit back down. Jason was between his legs resting against his lap, and Harry was petting his hair. 

Jean-Claude had not moved from where he stood as he listened aptly. “I see.” 

“I wish I did,” said Harry tiredly. “I don’t get it. It’s not supposed to happen.” 

“What isn’t mon belle?” 

“Necromancers cannot control another Necromancer’s zombie unless a ritual takes place! Even Voldemort’s tomes, which are older than you are, said I couldn’t. But, I did. I can’t kill them now!” He looked at the zombies on the floor. “I just can’t do it.” 

“I can do it if you wish. It would be easier.” 

“Just because it’s easy doesn’t mean it’s right, Jean. I can’t do it. They belong back in the earth where they can rest.” 

Jean-Claude’s lashes fluttered. “ _ Oui _ , I will see that you get them there, but first let’s get you patched up. Jason, mon cherie,” he called out in a velvety purr. 

“Nngh. I’m sorry…” Jason whined. “Please don’t punish me.” 

“Non, but you need to part from mon belle. He needs care.” 

Jason tightened his hold on Harry before slowly withdrawing. He flinched when a zombie touched him. “Whoa…” It was like the zombie snapped him back to reality.

“I was going to clean up before you arrived.” Jean-Claude helped Jason to stand, the younger man was shaking slightly. He kept looking Harry up and down, and then he shuffled closer to Jean-Claude and seemed to try and restrain himself. “Did you fly?” 

“Oui, you needed immediate assistance. I am glad I did.” He finally moved from his position. “Shall I heat some water?” 

“Just give me a bowl of water and the bandages in the cabinet on the left. Jason, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine. I’m really sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologize. If you could, go to my room and get me some clothes?” He looked at the half burned pajama bottoms. 

Jason bobbed his head. “Which one? This is a big house,” he said looking around the kitchen and then on the floor at the zombies. “Zombies.” 

“Upstairs second floor, on the right.” Apparently, Jason hadn’t heard a word so overcome with bloodlust. His face was still cherry red, and his eyes were brighter than moonlight. He scuttled out of the room quickly. Harry shivered when Jean-Claude’s fingers caressed at the good side of his neck after laying the bowl and sponge down. Harry heated the water with his magic, and then summoned an ointment that he poured into the basin to make it sizzle and bubble.

“Allow me,” said Jean-Claude taking the sponge. “Your home is fetching.” 

Harry made a noise. “I’m insulted, Jean. First time you enter my house and it’s a disaster!” 

Jean-Claude laughed richly. “Non. It is lovely. It takes me back a bit. 1703?” he deduced. “Such rich wood and fine textures.” 

“About that. Draco and I restored most of it. Still some unfinished floors. It’s just too big to bother so I’ve kept it warded beyond the fourth floor.” Harry took in a breath when Jean-Claude carefully cleaned the wound on his skin and neck. “Merlin only knows what is up there.” 

He watched with fascination as the scratches began to slowly fade. “Marvelous.” 

“That’s magic for you. Although, I haven’t the foggiest idea how to make it. That’s Draco’s department.” 

“I have a curiosity if you don’t mind my asking.” 

“You know I don’t.” 

“You mentioned this enemy of yours, why would you have his tomes of necromancy?” he asked curiously. “Did you relieve them from him?” 

Harry grinned. “No… not exactly. Voldemort left me everything in his will. It was a nasty shock when I found out.” 

“Oh? Why would he do such?” 

“He had small moments of clarity and intelligence. He was mostly an insane megalomaniac. He is what happens when you split the soul, and toss it away. He is a prime example. He used some of my blood to return to a body. Blood Magic is strong and very powerful. But not enough to combat his mind. Only sometimes. He knew during those times he would be dying. He could see it. See what it was doing to him. I was the last Necromancer, and to pay a debt he left me everything.” 

“Intriguing. You can turn enemies into friends,” Jean-Claude smiled slyly. “That is a gift most do not possess. You have - converted these - creatures into your pets. It is astonishing to witness.” 

Harry made a noise. “I’m nothing special.” 

“Non, you are very special.” He stood, towering over Harry and he bent down and kissed him softly. Harry hummed and swept a hand down the vampire’s chest. “You have taught me much on this night, mon belle. I do believe I am almost unworthy of you.” 

“Hush, and patch me up!” He couldn’t handle anymore compliments tonight. 

“Oui, mon belle.” He grinned slyly. “What do we do with your burns? I do not like them.” 

Harry summoned a burn salve with a new sponge. Jean-Claude plucked it from his grip as Jason returned with a handful of clothes. 

“So, uhm, I didn’t hear what happened here?” said Jason looking at the zombies. He was flushed in the face, and looked relieved and a bit sullen at the lack of blood. Harry quickly told him, and Jason nodded. “Oh. Why didn’t you control the other ones? There were other ones right?” 

“A Baker’s dozen or so.” 

“You’re taking them back to the graveyard?” asked Jason wide-eyed with surprise. 

“This one told me they’re from Burrell Cemetery. I intend to put them back where they belong.” One of the zombies had sluggishly crawled around to Harry’s side and was petting him on the thigh. 

“Whoa…” Jason stared at it. “It likes you.” 

“Yeah, imagine that?” said Harry patting it on the head. 

“Does it not disgust you?” 

Harry blinked at him. “Why would it? He’s dead and a bit smelly, but it’s not his fault. You get used to it.” If he recoiled at everything that smelled bad, he’d have lost friends long ago. Hagrid wasn’t exactly a breath of fresh Spring air. 

“But, they attacked you right?” Jason asked as though he were trying to comprehend a difficult problem. 

Harry had handed Jean-Claude the bandages to tape him up. He was almost as good as new, except the ankle. “Yeah.” 

Jason cleared his throat. “But, you let them live.” 

“They’re not attacking now. Somehow, I relinquished them from Salvador’s hold. No idea how. It’s not supposed to happen.” 

“Perhaps it is merely your brand of magic, Harry?” suggested Jean-Claude. “Or the fact that you are a real master of your craft and she is just like a third-rate Illusionist with a few parlor tricks up her sleeves.” 

“I guess it doesn’t really matter,” said Harry. “One way or another they’re going back where they belong.” He could still see Jason confused as though trying to work something out. “It’s not their fault Jason. It’s not like they rose on their own and came after me.” Jason looked at him, and much like a puppy tilted his head. “They were forced to rise and then ordered to come after me. I have no problem attacking back when they’re coming at me. But, once they’re docile what am I supposed to do? Keep hurting them for something out of their control?” He shook his head. “No. I would be no better than Salvador and all the others who get pleasure from it.” 

“But, it can’t really feel pain?” 

“I can feel it for them.” 

“Empathy, dear Jason,” Jean-Claude said finally finished with his perfect bandaging. 

“I guess I understand.” He really didn’t seem to. 

“It’s like kicking a puppy or a kitten for having an accident on the floor.” 

“Oh.” That seemed to work better. “I guess. Most would rub their noses in it.” 

“Yeah that doesn’t really work with me.” Harry had also brought out a Healing Potion for his ankle, and soon he was back on his feet with the help of Jean-Claude. It didn’t take long for him to change. But it wasn’t easy when a few zombies tried to tug on him. Jean-Claude seemed to enjoy the show, and Jason was grinning. 

“He’d be a good dancer,” Jason offered. 

Harry made a noise. “Don’t even go there!” Jean-Claude’s laugh was way too provocative, and it caused goosebumps to once again prickle at him. “You two, hush over there,” he sulked. 

“Mon belle, I have said nothing for you to accuse me of speaking.”

“I can hear your minds!” 

Jason grinned wolfishly. “Looks like I’m getting my master in trouble.” 

“Oui, you are,” said Jean-Claude flashing him a playful look. “Do be a good Pomme.” 

“I try.” 

Soon enough, Harry had his keys, and then he looked at the zombies as if wondering how to get them in a car. He made a noise. “It’s illegal. But I’m doing it.” He grabbed four apples off the center of the table, and sat them in a row, and took out his wand again. Jason eyed it curiously. 

“What are you doing?” Jean-Claude asked. 

“I need to transport them. You can fly right?” 

“Oui.” 

“How do you get to where you want to go?” 

“I picture you, and it lead me here,” said Jean-Claude. 

Harry nodded. “Good. You can follow me then.” It must work a lot like Port-Keys and apparation. It made a lot of sense that it would be connected. “ _ Portus! _ ” He did it with the four apples and they glowed a blue color. He set them to a timer so that when he grabbed one it wouldn’t go off. 

“You will stay put the moment you arrive.” He ordered the four and dropped the apples onto them causing each one to vanish. Jason flinched, and Jean-Claude arched a brow. 

He brought down his apparation wards for the moment, and then with a soft crack Harry disappeared, only to reappear in the middle of his frightened zombies. “It’s okay. It’s okay! Look where you are?” Harry calmed as they all crowded around him. “I’m sending you home. To rest!” All of them nuzzled him, and he shivered as the heated night air caressed the back of his neck. 

He could feel the tingling threads of recent necromancy. His eyes narrowed. So, she had called them after he left? He would have felt this when he was with Dolph. It didn’t take long for Jean-Claude and Jason to arrive. 

Harry watched in awe as Jean-Claude seem to blend with the night sky and then his feet hit the ground gracefully. Jason stumbled beside him with a groan. “Still trying to get used to that.” 

“You surprise me more and more mon belle,” said Jean-Claude. 

Harry grinned. “Sorry about that, but how else am I going to transport four zombies, one vampire, and one wolf here? My car holds four people, five if you want to squish in, and a smell like this in a car…” He waved his hand.

Jason barked through the night in laughter. 

“Do you need to see the graves individually?” asked Jean-Claude. 

“I don’t think so. I can feel the pulses in the air.” He could also see the spirits flying around, restless. Angered. “I’m sorry for what happened here,” he said softly to them. 

“I can feel them around us,” said Jean-Claude. “It is not often that they take physical form.”

“I feel something, but I don’t understand. It’s kind of cold,” Jason shivered. “It shouldn’t be cold in August.” 

“It’s the ghosts and spirits. Give me some space,” he requested and both of them backed up as Harry moved to stand near an empty grave. He bit his finger to let some of his blood out. “ _ I call upon the spirits of the magic around me. Please release those who have been summoned, and let them rest once more within your embrace _ ,” As Harry spoke there was a violent rush of wind that swooped and whipped around the cemetery. He made a circle with his blood, and all the graves in the distance that had belonged to the four began to open as the world beneath his feet gave a great shudder and they parted like a blanket as if inviting them back. 

All the zombies stood and wandered back to their place of rest. 

Jean-Claude and Jason could only watch in awe as they felt a strong pulse of magic flowing thickly across them. It was a deathly embrace, and for the merest second Jean-Claude wished to embrace it, only to stagger back when Jason clutched him with wide-eyes. 

“I’ve never felt that before.” 

“Neither have I, mon pomme,” he breathed. 

It was a warm feeling. A promise of eternal sleep that kissed at Jean-Claude’s pulsing throat. The magic rose to a high pitch, and Jean-Claude closed his eyes to embrace it, and when he reopened them all he could see was Harry in the distance. His eyes glowing brighter than a full moon. His hair inkier and more wild as though it might have grown an inch or two. His face porcelain and pale, gleaming without a blemish. Jean-Claude was moving before he could pause. His eyes narrowing to the point his top lashes brushed beneath his eyes. 

Harry turned as if expecting him. “ _ Kiss me _ .” 

Jean-Claude’s heart beat faster than was normal, and he swooped around Harry, their mouths collapsing into each other. As Harry slid his tongue across Jean-Claude’s fang, he was nicked. 

A moan so sultry and unbidden poured from his vampire as he wound his arms around Jean-Claude’s neck. He was lifted in the air, and Jean-Claude drank hungrily from the blood that pooled, their tongues kissing and swallowing each other. Harry’s slim legs swooped around Jean-Claude’s waist, locking them in together. A transference of power and magic locked the two together tighter; and the sting of the bite and the metallic taste of blood was overshadowed by the desire of his master who sought to own him. To mark and drain him until he was on the edge. More blood spilled into Jean-Claude’s mouth, flowing down his lips and dripping. The cut to Harry’s tongue must have grown wider the longer they kissed. 

Harry was awash in such strong intangible magic that wrapped itself around the two of them like a bow. He could feel Jean-Claude’s pulse, sense his needs and his wants as a new energy assaulted him. As if their separate brand of magic and the marks were overlapping in perfect tandem. He had never felt such a strong amount of power pour from his body in all his life.

Now, Harry wasn’t sure he could reach release with how flushed to the vampire as he was. His hands caressing and gliding up and down the beautifully hard chest. He had no cause to flame up or get nervous. 

“ _ Mon amour _ , you are  _ all _ mine,” Jean-Claude hissed with a searing glare that saw him gorgeously feral. 

Harry licked the man’s chin of the blood that spilled, nibbling on his lip as he did. He could feel Jean-Claude swollen and erect beneath him. His cheeks flushed, fire burning bright in dark eyes. “I love you too, Jean-Claude.” 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gets a bit explicit in the first half of the chapter. Enjoy ;)

Jason had fallen asleep in one of the drawing rooms. It was after four in the morning when they returned to Harry’s house. 

“Merde, mon amour, what has your blood done to me?” asked Jean-Claude faintly from his spot in a plush green armchair and looking as though he were about to float or bounce off the high walls. Both had stayed in the entrance hall in order to keep their conversation quieter for Jason.

Harry, who was still trying to come to terms with what had happened that night, was sitting on the arm of the chair staring at his once lovely entrance hall that was blackened with scorch marks. All the flowers in their crystal vases smashed, and even the emerald and royal purple tapestries looked as though they’d been put through the ringer. 

His house smelled of rot beneath the scent of roses. 

“You should return with me to the Circus. I cannot leave you here alone,” said Jean-Claude, his hands moving across Harry’s leg and knee. His eyes were heavy as though he’d had too much to drink. His skin was lush and his cheeks rosy, and even his hair seemed shinier than it normally was. Harry had no plans of running away from his home. He wouldn’t let anyone scare him off again. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but he wasn’t going to let Salvador get the best of him. “What is in your blood, mon amour? I am craving it again. One does not do that after a few centuries of having the same thing with very little variety.” 

Harry chuckled at the expression on the lovely vampire’s face and grazed his knuckles down the hot cheek. “It’s nice to know I can make the Master of the City flush. About time.” 

Jean-Claude laughed richly, licking his lips as he took Harry’s hand and ran his nose along his wrist. “It is so hard to keep this at bay. I do believe you have awoken something in me.” 

“Keep what?” 

“I wish to throw you on the floor,” he hissed with a snap of his teeth not even an inch from Harry’s slim wrist. “It is unseemly. I cannot do so for your first time.” 

“Not while it smells of corpses,” Harry sulked. “I can’t believe it, the first time you come over, and it’s a disaster.” He made to get up to put it all back together, but Jean-Claude clasped Harry’s hips and pulled him down onto his knees. A mouth buried into Harry’s neck causing shivers to wrack his frame.

He could feel Jean-Claude beneath him. Harry wriggled with a sly smile causing Jean-Claude to let out an uncharacteristic groan. “Mon amour, do not tease a vampire who has had the human equivalent of ecstasy.” 

Harry would deny that he ever giggled as he continued to rock his hips while perfect piano fingers glided down his thighs. “I need to at least fix the flowers.” He waved his wand in a circular light motion and without words everything began to mend itself back together. 

Jean-Claude kept his hungry mouth on Harry’s neck as he stared at the magic flowing through the room. He could feel it beneath his flesh, grazing along the muscle and bones. Harry’s magic was flowing through him. He may not be able to access it, but he could sense it’s stirring, and his ardeur kept trying to latch on. 

It liked it. It wanted more, and Jean-Claude’s mind was becoming foggy as he wished to pull the rest of the clothing from Harry. It didn’t matter that he had a tiny scent of corpse on him because right now, he was the most delicious thing that Jean-Claude had ever scented and tasted. 

“You’ve spilled much tonight, I do not want to spill more.” He slid his teeth gently across the softness of flesh, his fingers unconsciously ripping at the t-shirt to expose Harry’s shoulder. He was stiff and aroused. A thud of his heart-beat could be felt in his throat. Inside was like a volcano, his pressure had shot from near dead to a sweltering hundred degrees. 

Harry was feeling the tendrils of desire attempting to curl around him, and he knew that Jean-Claude was having one hell of a ride from Harry’s blood, and was feeling more coy and playful himself. Harry shifted so that that he slid down between the vampire’s long lovely legs. Jean-Claude had a wild beastial expression, and Harry crushed their lips together while tracing his fingers down Jean-Claude’s muscled chest toward the belt of the black jeans he wore. 

Harry could still taste the copper of his own blood included with Jean-Claude’s sweet aromatic flavor. He dropped his mouth the man’s chest, using one hand to palm his throbbing cock that pushed against the buttons of his jeans. 

“How about we meet in the middle, and I pleasure my master?” Harry teased. 

“But, mon amour, if you start that, I may be unable to stop.” 

“Oh you will, how about I make you?” Harry grinned at the challenging dark stare. 

“I highly doubt a virgin with your lack of knowledge can stop me.” 

“Do you want to bet?” Harry was flicking each of the buttons on his jeans. He didn’t have a zipper, which was probably a good thing. Harry licked his chin as he pulled the vampire’s hot to touch cock out of his jeans. Like everything on Jean-Claude, he was perfection. 

Jean-Claude’s face flooded with desire as he fell back against the chair, and how anyone can sag so elegantly, Harry would never know but he did. Harry’s tongue began to lick along his head and dragged downward making Jean-Claude breathe deep, his eyes swimming as the ardeur and blood inside of him overlapped. Harry sucked at the tip while using his hand to map out the length of Jean-Claude’s cock. 

The vampire gritted his teeth as he fisted a handful of Harry’s hair. “I may be a virgin, Jean-Claude, but I’m not a boy.” Harry smirked up at him as he came off of the cock briefly, using his hand to continue adding pressure along the length.

“Non, mon amour, you are not.” he hissed out again when Harry’s tongue ran along the veins and ridges of his cock. He was full and uncircumcised. Delicious saliva coating him as Harry took his time sending shivers and arousing spikes. 

Jean-Claude had many a man and woman in six hundred years. His ardeur could control anything, and it would unleash and take what it wanted whether Jean-Claude wanted them or not. It wasn’t as if Harry should be anything special. He was an inexperienced virgin, but he had a purity that Jean-Claude never got to taste. Harry felt something swirling out from Jean-Claude, but he wasn’t a slave to it. He was moved by Jean-Claude, and not the power that coiled within. 

He let out a soft long moan when Harry’s mouth dragged up and down. Jean-Claude let go of his hair, and cupped his rosy cheeks. “Open your eyes.” 

“They are open… I’m just memorizing you,” said Harry with a sly smile around the bulge in his mouth. He hummed against the throbbing cock. 

Argh, control was slipping and fast. Jean-Claude grunted and moaned quietly when Harry swirled his tongue around the head and then slide all the way down. All the way down, no gag reflex. Just swallowed him, and the muscles in the back of his throat had Jean-Claude feeling as though he were falling from a cliff. 

Harry’s eyes sparkled with tearful diamonds as he locked eyes with Jean-Claude. His own arousal was pushing at his trousers, but it wasn’t about him. He hadn’t expected that giving could feel and taste so good. 

But, then this was Jean-Claude. Harry loved it, never wanted to stop. He wanted to suck more, and so he did. He slurped in a perfect rhythm, rotating his mouth and tongue. He mapped out the skin and thickness, memorized the veins that seemed to swell. 

Jean-Claude was moaning deeply with sharp quick breaths escaping before he could hold them back. His blood seemed to keep rising, and he released his ardeur to get a taste of Harry’s lust. It was thick and deep. Harry was writhing on the floor, rocking against his curled legs as he sucked and enjoyed himself. 

Jason wasn’t wrong when he said that Harry would do well at Guilty Pleasures. He had a subtle sensuality about him. One that didn’t come off as much until it was released. He fed off Harry’s lust, and Harry gave him more, humming around his full mouth and shuddering as both of them tingled. 

“I’m not falling for that,” Harry growled as he felt the lust try to pierce him. He let it flow around him, but it wasn’t getting under his skin. Not yet anyway. 

“Oh? Is mon amour fighting it?” Jean-Claude growled. “You know it won’t work.” 

“Try me,” Harry brought his soaked mouth up. 

Jean-Claude kissed him, tongue diving into Harry’s pretty mouth, and drawing him closer. Harry’s hands were stroking and massaging him. He ripped Harry out of his shirt, and Harry grinned as he pushed the vampire away. “I’m not done.” 

“Yes you are. I need you, now.” 

“Ooh, is that an order Master? I’ll just make you spill in my mouth and drink it all up. Just like you drink me. I may be a novice, but I know what I like.” 

Jean-Claude glowered at him. “You do not understand the ardeur yet, mon amour. I can feed and feed when my blood is high enough. I do not stop after one, and your blood has infused me with something that not even a lycanthrope can do.” 

For the first time since Harry had ever met Jean-Claude looking into the vampire’s eyes had him feeling a sensual pulse that glided down into the back of his throat. It spread an arousing tendril through all parts of his body. 

“You’re trying to roll me!” 

“Oui, mon amour, I am seeing if the third mark allows better control,” Jean-Claude growled. “You should take me to your room, otherwise your floor will need an extra cleaning.” 

“I’m resisting you.” 

“Non, you will not.” 

“ _ Oui _ ,” Harry mocked pressing his mouth to Jean-Claude. He then pulled away, getting off his knees more fluidly than he normally would have. He stood there, burning and hard and Jean-Claude was glaring at him. 

Harry turned on his heel, and swept away. He snickered as he reached the first step of the staircase, and Jean-Claude was already wrapped around him. 

“Mon amour playing with me,” he groaned pushing his hips into Harry’s plump backside. “Is this a cry for attention?” 

“It’s a cry for seeing how far you will go to try and control me,” Harry flashed a catty smile as he turned sinuously in the man’s arms and leaned back against the steps. 

Jean-Claude flew down upon him, their mouths once again connecting, and hands roving over Harry in an attempt to free him from his clothes. “I can feel your lust and your desire. You wish for me to climb inside of you.” 

Harry’s eyes rolled and his back arched when his master bit his neck, piercing ever so slightly and drawing a thin trail of blood into his mouth. 

Harry then turned, and scaled the steps to get away. Jean-Claude grumbled and followed behind further up passed the first floor where Jason was softly sleeping, to the second floor. Harry grinned as he pushed against the first door on the left of a very long tight corridor lit by torches along the wall. 

“You took me up here to seduce me. You tricked me, mon amour.” 

“Did not. You followed me,” said Harry.

“I have a feeling that more of me has gotten into you this night just as you have poured into me.” He looked gracefully around the room. “Your scent mon amour. All your scent is across this room. So light and airy.” He grinned when Harry tugged him by the lace shirt to draw him closer. Jean-Claude paused when he saw the bandages on Harry’s soft flat stomach. “Perhaps you are right and I should not try and take advantage of you.” 

“I’m fine.” Harry ripped it off to show that it was back to the same soft skin. He shivered as a finger delicately ran across it. “Just wanted to get out of the corpse smelling entrance hall.” 

“Oui.” 

Jean-Claude tugged at Harry’s trousers sliding them down to the floor as they leaned against the edge of the bed. Harry’s slim legs naturally wrapped around Jean-Claude as the lustful vampire pushed them onto the bed covered in feather pillows. 

“I smell like the dead.” 

“You smell divine,” Jean-Claude hissed. “Let me have you, Harry.” He sounded almost pitiful, and Harry pushed the clingy lace shirt from Jean-Claude’s broad shoulders and kissed the expanse of his chest. 

“As if I would really deny you. Just feeling playful.” He shivered again when Jean-Claude moaned into his neck. His fingers teasing into his hair. “I think the third mark has allowed me to borrow some of your coy nature.” 

“Non, you have that so naturally. A subtlety that you keep wrapped. It is no wonder you have managed to enthrall those around you. But, for this night I get you.” Jean-Claude’s skin flared hot again, his cock swelled back to when Harry had devoured him.

Harry’s heart was racing, and he moaned when Jean-Claude’s lips captured him again sending pulses of arousal through him. He opened himself as palms began to trace the texture across his thighs and peeling the thin fabric that lay between them.

Harry was lost, hardly able to speak or comprehend what was happening as lust and a dark magic began to flow between them, intensifying their hunger and the sensations that gathered. 

Jean-Claude hooked his arms beneath Harry and lay across his belly, and began to slowly kiss and lick his open thighs. Jean-Claude had been holding onto his resolve and control until it cracked down the center; spurred on by the feisty little wizard who saw too much man in him, and made that same man inside of him move with intent. 

Jean-Claude’s fingers had never been so teasing as they ran down his calf marking every inch of him invisibly. He left not a single piece of flesh untainted. Harry whined, fingers combing through the silk curls and he shuddered as the vampire gulped him down, careful of his fangs, and trailing his tongue up and down Harry’s cock that stood red and pulsing at attention. 

“Very healthy and lovely to taste,” Jean-Claude hissed. “It is now my turn to make you unravel.” 

Harry’s eyes rolled, his head fell back, and Jean-Claude sucked him. A sensual light glimmered above his head like a spark. It was asking him for entrance, and Harry accepted it as it sank beneath him causing him to start shaking. 

Jean-Claude’s own power was pulsing and ready for him. Ready to have him and break him. To take everything from him. It was as though he were bathed in something more than lust. Something that was entirely Harry’s. Of all the centuries alive, it was new to him. It pushed him further.

Rising, Jean-Claude sucked Harry's neck. His fingers raking and roaming along the soft but flat body. Every part of Harry was perfection, tasted and felt on his tongue.

So many arousing sensations were pulling through Harry. A soft hidden plea that hummed through him threateningly as Jean-Claude crawled across him tasting and touching as many parts as he could. Harry’s skin bloomed cherry with each arousing spike. His skin was gleaming, soft and pliable, a sheen of sweat beading its way to the surface. Jean-Claude licked the sweat with his tongue and then dipped down into Harry’s mouth as he settled between the young man’s parted thighs. 

Harry sank underneath Jean-Claude's deep kisses for what felt like the hundredth time, their tongues fighting and warring. The vampire on top of him always winning. Harry shuddered into Jean-Claude's experienced palms, soft and smooth making their way down his back. Harry swallowed him, hungry to try him, and shivered when Jean-Claude let out a long slow moan. 

He loved tasting Jean-Claude. He loved feeding his vampire, and giving him whatever it was he needed. A hint of rose and copper staining their lips. Harry had this intense carnal need to be ripped apart. It roared through him with a fierceness he’d never had before. Nothing could compare except maybe his brief addiction with dark magic. 

Bloody hell, he wanted to be owned. He was not experienced, but he was a man and he knew what he wanted. He rolled them and followed his instincts until he had Jean-Claude becoming the loud one as Harry made him spill hot fresh come into the back of his throat. He was still left hard, panting and wide-eyed. Harry teased some more at his still thick cock, cum coating his lips that had Jean-Claude latching onto them and enjoying the taste. 

“I want you to tear me open, Jean.” 

Jean-Claude growled. “You are asking for pain, but maybe a bit of pain nurtures the pleasure? Hm? Is this your first time feeling such?” 

“Uh huh,” Harry breathed. “I don’t know what it is, but I want...” 

“Let me test it then. We shall find out.” 

As Harry was laid back against the soft feathery pillows, he spread his legs eagerly on either side in invitation.

_ Merde, he was lovely _ , Jean-Claude thought stripping out of the rest of his clothing with a flick to the floor. It was easy to get swallowed by desire, easy to get wrapped in the lust and not see the lover lying on the bed. Harry had a slim male dancer’s figure. Not one built around hard muscles like at Guilty Pleasures. But more like a male ballet dancer. Almost swan like.

Fingers slipped inside of tightly coiled flesh. Harry hummed as Jean-Claude taunted him and reached out to tease his cock that continued to pulse with excitement. It was red and hard, almost painful. His elegant vampire never did anything halfway, and Harry whined some more. 

Jean-Claude kissed back up his chest, teasing his nipples and making his blood boil as the man's chest pressed to him, the friction warm and hot – smooth, and barely able to satisfy his need.

Jean-Claude's eyes narrowed, but he his smile was soft. He dropped his hand to Harry's hips and jerked him closer in one swift movement. Harry gasped, his back arching as Jean-Claude gave him no warning and slid himself slow and slick deep inside for the first time. 

“ _ Huh! _ ” His eyes watered, his toes curled, his body perspired, and he cried out as Jean-Claude's moved deep and slow, their mouths meeting again as Harry locked his legs around perfect hips. Harry fell under the spell as Jean-Claude came up, and glared into his eyes.

“So small, you fit so well,” Jean-Claude growled. “Just right.” 

It hurt and felt good all at once. It was an unreal feeling, and Harry was jerking and shivering more as all the nerves were teased and caressed. Sensations flaring as more arousal pumped through his body. It was like every part of him was filled from the inside. He wasn’t sure how much it could take, but he was willing to test to his limits. Jean-Claude was eating his neck. “You are so messy, good for me.” Harry had orgasmed without realizing it, so shaken and his mind blank. 

His senses tingled, and pinprick bumps rippled across him, sinking deep beneath his skin, rushing through his veins.

“ _ Uhhh! _ ”

His body wracked with waves of heat and pleasure colliding, Jean-Claude working him over, and sliding up his body, nibbling against his inner thigh, and then forcing his tongue down Harry's throat after pulling him back. He kept repeating, sliding his way deep into Harry making those arousing pulses spike. His own cock would harden before Jean-Claude teased some more leaving him in near tears. 

“Evil bastard.” 

Jean-Claude chuckled thickly into Harry’s neck, biting down just enough to taste his delicious blood as he rotated his hips every time Harry arched. “You look at me with such purity, Harry, and while I am inside of you.” 

He memorized the way Harry looked against the pillows, raven hair sprayed around his face, emerald eyes bright and sparking. He tasted delicious, it stung Jean-Claude's tongue making him crave more. His ardeur was getting an overload if that were possible. 

Harry's body hummed. He could feel the pulse and the fiery heat. He was hot inside, so very hot as humans tended to be, but there was something that was all him. Something that only he possessed. It torched his fingers and tongue. It swallowed his cock with every slick thrust that filled their needs.

Jean-Claude slammed deeper inside. “ _ Hah! _ ” Harry arched, his knees bending, and he bit down on his lower lip at the pain that radiated from his bottom straight into his spine. “ _ Huh.... Jean! _ ”

Harry clung to Jean-Claude as the vampire dived deeper, and then he stilled and slammed inside causing Harry to whine, his face lacing with desire and pain. Jean-Claude moved with an intensity; a slow gyration deep inside of Harry who clung to him. Harry was wet with sweat and come, fixated against him, clinging to him, and sucking against his cock. 

Harry felt so full, his stomach felt engorged, and he was lost as Jean-Claude continued a wondrous rhythm that made Harry's toes curl, and his neck prickle with bumps. He was losing his mind, Jean-Claude's cock pushing and forcing itself through him, filling him up as he lost control of his orgasms, clinging and watching the gorgeously perfect body baring down on top of him, filling his need, and that itch. 

“ _ Uhhhh! Jean-Claude! _ ”

Jean-Claude covered his mouth, tongue diving down with every thrust and slam. He was tainting and pouring himself deep inside with his hips working on their own as Harry began to rock against him with untamed need. He writhed and shifted causing Jean-Claude to clench to keep from losing himself.

Harry's stomach became knotted, a spreading chill spread like a wave sucking and pulling back, and his orgasms reached a peak. His body was pulled and torn, put back together, and filled, and something hot and pink sucked at the air. Harry sucked back at it as though Jean-Claude had unleashed every ounce of a power he possessed. 

A power that fed on lust and sex. Harry took it in while rising from the bed with a ready strength, slinging his arms around Jean-Claude and riding him as he rode the lustful power. Both of them so noisy and the bed could have broken, but they wouldn’t have cared. Harry smothered him in kisses, and he tried to pour back what he felt through the lust into Jean-Claude. Something must have happened because Jean-Claude was now trying to break him. Hah, he wouldn’t be breaking. 

Not yet, and not now. Harry's fingers swept across, and he pulled himself up, using Jean-Claude and his light weight to his advantage riding and rhythmically rolling his hips.

Jean-Claude claimed his neck, biting and Harry’s blood flowing as he lapped and sucked greedily. He was on his knees and his palms holding Harry beneath his thighs, keeping him leveled so that he could ride. Harry’s legs on either side of him. 

Jean-Claude’s desire and needs overwhelmed him with a sudden cold and hot pulse as the power seemed to snap in half releasing everything throughout the room. Harry’s come poured out onto their stomachs, and Jean-Claude clutched him as he climaxed, both riding on the magic and lust in the air. 

Harry took hold and kissed him so hard as they were completed and spent. Jean-Claude laid him down, they were sweating. Jean-Claude had blood dripping on his lip. Harry kissed it away as he shook from head to toe. 

“Mon amour, what have you done to me?” Jean-Claude laid back on the bed feeling weak and softly sedated. 

Harry’s backside was numb and there was seman draining down his body, but he didn’t really care. His mouth felt as though it were a rubber band, and that it would snap at any moment. He shimmied into Jean-Claude’s arms curling against him. “I think my dark magic and your ardeur came out to play,” breathed Harry. “That was the ardeur you mentioned, wasn’t it?”

“Perhaps. You have your own form of seductive powers, and it combines with mine. I can only imagine what this would do to the court should it be released.” Jean-Claude licked his lips at the idea, the sex still rolling around through him like hot candlewax to skin. 

Harry grinned. “I’m not spreading myself for the court.” He smacked Jean-Claude on the chest. “You try that and I’m going to kick your pretty arse.” 

Jean-Claude chuckled tiredly. “Mon amour, pardon. The ardeur does not discriminate when it comes to a feed. If it is held back too long. It will take all in it’s path. It will change and manipulate.” 

Harry snickered as he shuffled closer, enjoying feeling Jean-Claude against him. “Just like you then, hm?” 

“I have not manipulated you,” Jean-Claude assured. 

“Yeah, but you would if you could.” 

“Naturally,” he confessed. “Does that not bother you?” 

“Only when I don’t know I’m being manipulated and when I don’t like it. I can let it go so far until it bothers me. But, really? I’m not a teenager.” 

“We would not be in this position should you be. I do not have a taste for the unusually young. It is why I was thrown here to Nikolaos’ court,” he confessed. “I had no taste for it, and it was a punishment for my deeds. She would not let me feed much, but she had no idea how it worked so she could not stop it all. Guilty Pleasures was the only way I was allowed to feed.” 

Harry rolled all this over in his mind, and then he sat up on his elbows and looked at Jean-Claude. “I thought you had to feed it through sex.” 

“Lust. It is a difference. You do not need sexual contact, although it is the most proficient way to satisfy its hunger. I feed on the lust at the club. Sometimes, I participate and do a private show. She did not know that I could feed from afar or through lines.” 

“Like if you make a vampire you can feed through them? Like you can taste my food?” 

“Oui.” 

“She starved you.” Harry frowned deeply, and Jean-Claude’s heart thumped a bit faster at the empathy Harry showed. 

“Come here, mon amour. She did nothing more than make me stronger!” Harry curled against Jean-Claude’s frame. “When I met you, I decided to test myself. Let myself go without to see how I could push it. I only fed enough to satiate, and to keep a tight control. I also did not want you to flee from me. I truly wanted to catch you.” 

Harry smirked. “I knew it. You had called me a catch!” 

“Oui, but it didn’t take long when I realized I do not want to catch and release.” 

“I was always released, Jean. I was captured and then released, repeatedly.” 

“Not anymore. I am a selfish centuries old vampire.” 

Harry buried his nose into the sweet salted neck. “I think we all deserve to be selfish at times. Promise not to starve yourself again? Lust or blood.” 

“Oui.” As they laid there for the longest time, Jean-Claude wished he had more hours in the night, but he could feel the tendrils of morning trying to touch at the sky. He didn’t have to see it, and while he would still be awake, he would have to move locations. 

He felt Harry’s breathing even out, sleep had dragged him into a bliss of dreams. Jean-Claude smiled and kissed his forehead. It had been quite a night. He must leave. He did not want to go. It was cruel to depart from Harry’s side, especially now. 

Harry had three of his marks. One more would complete it, and he would be irrevocably bound to Jean-Claude. He tried to get himself to move, and to leave Harry’s side, but his arm remained clasped around the slim figure, his eyes became heavy and the smell of Harry’s natural scent, lilac twinged with a subtle darkness, dragged him into the recesses of a calm sleep where no last breaths were drawn. 

Something had pushed Harry out of bed two hours later. Jean-Claude had fallen asleep, and morning was dawning behind the heavy curtains.  _ Ah _ . It must be the marks and the knowledge that Jean-Claude needed shelter away from the sun’s deadly rays. He swept his magic through the house blacking every window and crease from the intruding dawn. As the manor drowned in darkness, Harry blinked the sleep from his eyes. 

His limbs were stretched, his backside was now burning, and the memory of the night’s events swirled over his head and rained down upon him. If he had known sex was that good, he might have tried it before. 

_ Bloody hell I really am a pervert _ . Harry thought dryly as he lit the candles and torches in the room. He should do that in the drawing room too in case Jason awoke with a start. Then again he was probably used to darkness. 

Harry would have to see to a guest room for him if they were going to be here more than once, and even though he’d had very little sleep, his mind and body were wide awake. In fact, he felt as though he could go for a lengthy run. 

But, reality would not let him go back to bed. For one, his house was a disaster and he had company. For another, Salvador. She was going to pay, and then there was Harold Gaynor,  _ oh _ , and let’s not forget the Burke issue, and rampaging unusual zombies kidnapping children. 

_ Great _ , as if Harry needed more rubbish on his plate. 

First was a shower. He smelled of sweat and salty sex, fluids had dried inside of him hours ago, but he couldn’t pretend that the dead that Salvador sent to him hadn’t cuddled up to him like a puppy. He probably had the scent of rot somewhere on his body. How Jean-Claude hadn’t recoiled was beyond him. 

Harry settled into a hot much needed shower, scouring every part of his body from head to toe. Normally if someone is scratched by a zombie they would require a tetanus booster to keep down on infection, but Harry didn’t really need it. His blood was strange that way. He didn’t get diseases or infections easily, if at all. Harry didn’t know if that was because of the events in 2nd Year that saw both basilisk venom and phoenix tears enter his bloodstream. He figured both would be gone by now, or else he would have never let Jean drink from him; but maybe the combination left an after effect that made it so he didn’t need shots like others.

Once he was satisfied that he no longer smelled like a pig, Harry shrugged on some blue short style underwear and a pair of pajama bottoms. He padded out using a thin golden light to see where he was going and headed down stairs. He stopped in at the drawing room and flicked his hand toward the torches to allow them to sputter on. He could see Jason curled up on the sofa with a pillow behind his head and a thin cover over his body. 

He continued on downstairs, and groaned when he saw his entrance hall. He looked at the rucksack by the door and back at the hall. He wouldn’t be able to focus or do a damn thing unless he cleaned it. 

He spent the next few hours scouring and cleaning. It wasn’t as if he enjoyed cleaning, but it was compulsive. Ingrained in him by the Dursleys, and whenever the mess went for too long Harry would often get nervous and unsettled. 

His kitchen hadn’t been so bad even if the zombies left dirt and grime all over his floors. He scrubbed them going so far as to getting on his hands and knees and spraying an extra bottle of the magical mess remover. 

He repaired all the broken bits, and sadly had no choice but to throw away some of the flowers because they’d gotten singed in the fireballs Harry had thrown. He left their vases empty, and soon he had curled up in a den with Harold Gaynor’s file and prepared to learn more about this man than he ever wanted to know. Harry had summoned some snacks and tea to mind himself as he spent hours combing through the file. 

It seemed that his only family been a mother who died ten years ago. His father was supposed to have died before he was born. There was no record of the father’s death. In fact, the father didn’t seem to exist. 

So, he was likely illegitimate. In the magical world, illegitimacy was a big deal. It all went back to blood for a lot of the Pureblood culture, and shaming their name by having a child with someone they weren’t meant to often caused scandal. Not so much these days. A lot of the Pureblood propaganda was being washed away little by little. 

Harry reached for the photograph of Wanda gain. She had a nice smile, and he didn’t understand what Irving thought was so funny about her in a wheelchair. It was just tasteless to think it was amusing. 

He had found two pictures with her and Gaynor together. In one there was no mistaking that she was in love. In the second Cicely had come into the picture, and she looked downright miserable. Harry wasn’t sure what he had planned to ask her, but he rarely ever ran on a plan anyway. He supposed he’d meet her, and see where it went from there. Maybe she would tell him something or maybe she would ask him to bugger off. It all depended on the mood and setting. 

It was almost eight o’ clock when Harry closed the folder, finished his tea, and summoned the cordless phone. He left a message on Peter Burke’s answering machine before deciding it was time to try and get a couple hours of sleep before it hit him in the middle of the day. 

But as he was making his way upstairs the sound of the door opening caught his attention, and Jason yawned. “You have to have the most comfortable couch ever,” he sniffed. “Ooh, you smell like sex.” He leered leaning toward Harry and sniffing him on the cheek. 

Harry batted the younger man away. “I took a shower!” 

Jason grinned. “Doesn’t matter. It’s all over you to any lycanthrope or vampire.” Harry’s face blushed crimson, and Jason laughed at him. “What? Not like there’s anything wrong with it.” 

“No, but do you have to point it out?” 

“Yup!” Jason grinned. “What time is it? Shouldn’t we be heading back to the Circus?” 

“It’s morning.” Jason’s face showed panic, but Harry smirked. “Not that you can tell. I’ve blacked out every window. Jean is asleep in my room. You hungry?” He was now distracted. He had to feed guests. He couldn’t go to sleep knowing that Jason was up and had nothing to do. 

“I’m always hungry. Is it okay to be here so early?” 

“Yes, and the only reason why zombies got through my protections is because they don’t register as alive,” he reminded. “Anything alive cannot cross over my property without me knowing it.” 

“Huh. Interesting. Your magic is really different. I guess you’re not a witch. Your blood smells nice to…” Jason shivered as though a trickle of cold water had splashed down his back. “Seems the master agrees.” He was eyeing the bites on his neck that Jean-Claude had left. 

Harry’s flushed as he remembered Jason had been there, and privy. It was kind of new to have someone watching him do anything. He had been a virgin after all. “What do you like?” 

“Anything,” said Jason shrugging. “Wow, you really cleaned up in here.” 

“It would drive me batty if I didn’t.” His kitchen was back to it’s sparkling perfect self, and he made for the cupboards and refrigerator to pull some fresh ingredients. It looked like he wasn’t going to sleep, and so he set some coffee for brewing as Jason sat on the edge of the table chatting about everything and yet nothing. 

“Do you like pancakes?” 

“You don’t have to go to all the trouble,” said Jason in surprise. “Don’t you have anything in the freezer?” 

“Sure, but it’s not all that healthy. I have those toaster pastries my house-mate likes so much, but I don’t like to eat or feed them to my guests.” 

Jason laughed. “You kind of remind me of Jean-Claude. Always about hospitality.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Except he does it better.” 

“I don’t know. I think you’re about even. You sort of compliment each other. Your magic last night… I’ve never felt anything like it.” 

“It was a bit different than usual for me to,” Harry accepted as he poured some orange juice for Jason. 

“Maybe it was Jean-Claude. He is the Master of the City. His power is undeniable.” Harry had seen glimmers and bits of Jean-Claude’s power, but he hadn’t been given the full amount, and so he couldn’t really agree or disagree. “And if he’s already marked you, being beside him would boost all your abilities. It would also boost his abilities making you both powerhouses.” Harry thought about this as he set to cooking pancakes, eggs, and some potatoes. Jason’s eyes had gone wide when Harry used his magic to make a knife slice them for frying. “Geez, what can’t your magic do?” 

“Not sure. Next time you come here I’ll have a proper room sorted.” He really wasn’t comfortable talking about his magic or how it mixed with Jean-Claude’s. Mostly because he didn’t understand it himself. 

Last night when he had commanded Jean-Claude to mark him, he wasn’t entirely sure what part of him wanted it so bad. He didn’t regret it, but there were things happening these days that he didn’t understand. 

It was like a force was inside of him, and sometimes it showed itself when intense magic or emotions surfaced. He would liken it to the way it felt when Voldemort would try and wriggle around in his head. But, that wasn’t possible. Voldemort was gone, and this didn’t seem dangerous. 

Harry ate a bit of breakfast with Jason, and soon enough the younger man was getting a bit antsy. He kept fluttering around Harry, and his touchie-touchie playful personality had returned. He was asking all kinds of questions, and while Harry wouldn’t have minded as he reminded him fondly of Draco, Harry couldn’t help but feel a bit of fatigue working its way through his muscles and bones. 

He supposed he could double check on Teddy’s room. He couldn’t do anything about Gaynor until Jean-Claude was awake, and he also couldn’t do a thing about John Burke unless the bastard called him. 

“I have a gym downstairs in the basement.” 

Jason beamed. “Great! I do need to work off that food I just ate. I can’t be a flabby dancer. I could teach you to dance, for the master of course!” 

Harry squawked, his face burning a brilliant red. Jason was laughing at him. “I don’t think so. I’m not dancing for anyone!” 

“Why not? You have a nice body!” He grabbed Harry’s wrists and spread them open. “I can see why he’d do you.” 

“Oi!” 

“I prefer women personally, but either or is fine with me. I’m not very picky.” Harry wished he could sink into his shiny clean floors now, that would be nice. He was so glad that Jean-Claude was asleep. “Maybe if the Master is in one of his special moods where he’s willing to share!” 

“Aye! I’m out of here!” Harry threw the rag behind him, and Jason paused to watch as it floated perfectly in place. He whirled around to see Harry having disappeared. 

“Oh come on, Harry! You can’t be that shy! You’re with Jean-Claude! Sex is his nature. It’s everything. It’s like breathing!” 

“Will you cut it out?” Harry spluttered. 

“It’s not like you’ve never had sex before Jean-Claude…” Jason froze when he saw Harry’s eyes dart away to the floor, the brilliant amount of blood that was pocketing his cheeks seemed to enhance. “Oh my God…” 

“Shut up!” 

“You were…!” If they weren’t so close to the stairs, Harry would push him away. But he didn’t want to break the cute man’s neck so he huffed and stomped up the stairs. Jason raced after him and when they got to the landing he stood in front. “You were a virgin?” 

“Is there a problem with that?” 

“No. But…” Jason paused for a moment as if trying to roll it around his mind. “Why?” 

“Why what?” 

“Why were you a virgin?” 

“Uhm. How do you really answer that? It never occurred to me that I should be having sex with someone I don’t know or I don’t even like.” 

“You never liked anyone before Jean-Claude?” 

“Uh-” Harry raised his eyes to the wooden slats of the vaulted ceiling and then looked back down at Jason again. “No, not really. I had too many more things going on to be thinking about liking a guy. I had a girlfriend once, but that was more of a kid thing, and I wasn’t really interested. Also at the time I was just trying to stay alive and make everyone happy that wasn’t me. I didn’t even get kissed until last month, and no it wasn’t Jean.”

“Wow, kissing to sex in a month.” Jason continued to tease. “How old are you again?” 

“Older than you,” he assured. 

“Where are we going?” 

“My godson’s room. I need to make sure he has everything he needs,” he said at the last second. Even though he felt as though he were about to pass out. Partly from embarrassment and the other part exhaustion. Jason was still looking at him as though he were an alien. 

Harry hated that. He was not an alien, thank you very much. Everyone he knew these days were so sexually open and free. His world would have had kittens if someone said the word sex out loud in the streets of Diagon Alley. 

It wouldn’t have happened. Someone would have hexed the other for inappropriateness, and then it would have turned into a massive duel that wouldn’t end until someone lost their ears. Harry realised he was rambling in his mind again, and pushed the door open, and Jason let out a higher than normal squeal. 

“So cool!” 

Harry couldn’t help but smile slightly as he folded his arms. “Isn’t it?” Harry had taken great pride in Teddy’s bedroom. He had gone all out like he wished someone had for him when he was a child. 

It was like they had entered an enchanted forest, the floor was a soft and plush earthy brown, but it was the walls where the forest really began. Rich leafy green trees and forest glades ran all along the walls, and the trees moved and swayed. Shadows were cast dependant on the lights in the ceiling, magicked to reflect the sky outside. A bit of blue sky and light could be seen beyond the trees to signal the time of day. Butterflies and deer moved naturally along the trees. Every once and a while one deer would race around and then disappear behind another. 

When Harry dimmed the natural lighting, the walls changed to night. A bright realistic moon and stars glowed on the ceiling and Jason stared at the four creatures that appeared and spread out beside one another. 

First was a tall but slim tufty brown werewolf that stood on two legs, it’s nose angled toward the moon. It’s eyes were amber and seemed to reflect the light of the moon. Beside the wolf stood a large black dog with midnight eyes that reminded Jason of Jean-Claude. 

Next to the dog a stately pure white stag with black eye markings and hazel eyes. It’s antlers were prominent and the detail exquisite. Finally lying curled in a tree top above the three animals was a rich sleek black leopard with glowing emerald eyes. It’s tail would swing like a pendulum, dangling from the branch it rested on. 

Jason flinched when the creatures began to move, the wolf took off at a run, and the others followed behind. Jason followed with his eyes, spinning around to catch them. He laughed before he could muffle it when the black dog pounced on top of the wolf and they seemed to roll through a glade. 

“It’ll even show rain on the walls when it’s raining outside,” said Harry. “Snow as well. I haven’t decided if the vegetation will change with the seasons yet or not.”

The rest of the room was the typical little boy’s room, though Teddy did have a stuffed Snow White doll that he got when Harry had taken him to Disney World in Orlando a couple years back. Harry still blushed when he remembered why Teddy chose Snow White. 

_ “She looks most like you. Except she’s a girl and you’re a boy! Her face is white, her eyes are green, and her hair is black. I love her!”  _ He would hug it to him, and had slept with it for a week until he had to leave. 

“It’s amazing,” breathed Jason. 

“Teddy’s father was a werewolf.” 

Jason smiled. “Sounds nice… you accept him.” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

The blond man folded his arms over his chest as he walked through the room watching as the creatures played and tumbled. Sometimes the leopard would join, but he mostly held back watching as if content to be in the trees. Every now and then a white snow owl would flutter by. 

“I think I’m beginning to understand why you confuse me,” said Jason. “You don’t have a mean bone in your body do you?” He looked at Harry with a wide-eyed stare. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You treat zombies like they’re worth something. You treat vampires as though they’re alive and normal. You treat lycanthropes as though they are important.” 

“Everyone is important in their own way,” said Harry logically. He didn’t understand why Jason looked as though he were about to cry. “I treat a person as they are individually. I admit I sometimes have my days. I don’t approve of vaudun. You should know that by now. But, I grew up with horrible people, Jason. Ones who looked down on everyone because they were different. I wasn’t about to let myself turn out like them. I’d rather die. I don’t see why everyone is so stunned by me.” 

“You haven’t been in the community for long,” said Jason touching the sturdy mahogany bed. It looked handmade. Not one of those factory presses. It was as though someone went through a lot of trouble to carve and create it. There was also a matching bookcase with green and reddish leaves etched into the sides. It was stuffed with books and toys. 

“I guess I haven’t. I’ve been here for years now, but I still get looked at like an alien. I had a lot of hate where I was growing up. People fighting over useless things, things that were pointless. But, I also had some good. Enough to keep from smothering. Remus and Tonks - Teddy’s parents fought against hatred. They died to erase it. My parents died to erase hatred, and finally we succeeded.” For the most part. 

“Just a lot to take in,” Jason breathed looking at the ground. “I’m tired.” 

“You want to sleep? I can get you a room.” 

“Can I sleep here?” he asked childishly, his cheeks stained red. 

Harry chuckled. “Sure.” He tapped the bed, and Jason flinched when the small child-size bed lengthened. “I’m kind of glad you’re tired. I’m knackered. I need sleep.” 

“Really? I can?” 

“Sure. You can play with the toys if you want,” he teased. “You’re welcome here, Jason. No matter what.” 

Jason grinned and hopped into the bed like a big kid. Harry laughed and flicked his wand causing a blanket to appear over top of him. “You’re the best!” 


	11. Chapter 11

_ Merde!  _ Jean-Claude’s eyes snapped open to the glimmering soft glow cascading on the ceiling like a thousand diamonds. He took in a deep swallow of breath, the scent of lilac tinged with a sweet darkness swirled around him. He had not died that day. Instead, he’d slept. He knew that it had to be sunny, but the curtains and windows were all blacked out. 

It didn’t take him long to know where he was, the smell was one that comforted him in more ways than he expected. He turned to see Harry on his side, and fast asleep. He was draped with a thin sheet and a plethora of pillows around him. It seemed that Jean-Claude hadn’t ordered enough pillows, Harry’s whole bed was littered with them. 

Is this the effects of Harry’s blood or Harry accepting the third mark and being so close? Perhaps it was a combination of all these things. He rolled so that his chest pressed to Harry’s back and he ran a light finger along the young man’s cheek and down his neck. He smirked at the bite marks he could make out beneath his ear. 

Enchanting. His mouth began to water again. He was hungry, and though he had a ripe Pomme de Sang somewhere in the house it was not what he wanted. He wondered if he’d get smacked for biting? Jean-Claude grinned and buried his nose into Harry’s neck enjoying the heat of blood beneath the soft taut skin. 

“Awake are we?” Harry hummed as his eyes fluttered open. His green eyes reflected in the low soft lighting. Enchanting. 

“Mm, I did not die. I was asleep.” 

“Is that normal?” 

“Non. I smelled you. I became hungry,” Jean-Claude confessed with an elegant lazy drawl. 

“You want another bite?” 

“Mmm, I brought my Pomme, but I would rather have you on my tongue.” He flicked it across Harry’s neck making him shiver pleasantly. 

“Just try not to leave a mess,” said Harry shifting so that his neck was exposed. 

“I am a clean predator, I assure you.” 

Harry’s eyes rolled, and his back arched when Jean-Claude’s fangs sank into his neck. A strong pair of arms were clasped around his waist, drawing him closer. It pinched and stung a bit, but it wasn’t overly painful. 

The hot warmth of the blood flowed through Jean-Claude’s mouth, tingling his muscles and pumping into his organs. Harry’s blood flowed through him, and his desires began to come to life sending his hips into Harry plump rear, cock naturally slipping into place without sliding in. One hand glided down the slim chest to his hip, holding him still as Jean-Claude rolled his hips. 

Harry clenched Jean-Claude’s thigh, a strange current singing through him as he was drained. He wasn’t sure if it was a sexual feeling or something else. He let out a shudder, Jean-Claude holding him ever tighter as though fearing he would vanish. 

Before Harry could start to really feel the affects, Jean-Claude let out a sultry moan, and then carefully extracted his fangs from Harry’s delicate skin, and replaced them with his tongue to keep the blood from flowing. “Delicious.” 

“Hng…” Harry had never been bit like that before. He was a bit dizzy with a fog over his mind. “Jason is going to be jealous.” 

Jean-Claude chuckled. “Perhaps. Where is my wandering Pomme?” 

“I left him in Teddy’s room. He liked it so much he wanted to sleep there,” said Harry. “What happened after that, I haven’t a clue.” 

“Oui, Jason is still part child inside. His environment has not afforded him too many comforts.” Jean-Claude shifted so that he could sit. His skin was rippling with a rushing power. He was once again feeling floatier than usual. He placed two fingers to Harry’s neck who sluggishly moved to rise. “I am curious as to the actual time?” 

Harry waved his hand lazily and smoky rings of the time floated in front of them. “Almost three.” 

“Such a long rest. I feel as though I need to climb something,” Jean-Claude confessed as he snaked himself around Harry drawing him between his legs. 

“That something wouldn’t be me would it?” He could feel Jean-Claude’s rare heat. 

“Perhaps, but you need sustenance. I can’t steal all your energy. I am a patient vampire,” he purred flicking his tongue along Harry’s ear. 

“All of the house has been blacked out. So you’re free to move where you wish,” Harry told his head tilting back and Jean-Claude kissed him deeply. 

“Do you still wish for a chaperone tonight?” 

“If you don’t mind. I want to get this over with so that I can move on with my life, and get Teddy here, and not keep putting him off. Luckily, Andy told him I’m chasing bad guys. That’ll hold him for a few days.” 

“Such sweetness in your heart. You have confounded my Pomme,” he grinned. “And me.” 

“It’s what I do best. I confuse the world. Now, I’m extracting myself from you before we end up here all night.” 

Jean-Claude chuckled and withdrew his arms, and both of them slipped out of the bed. “You sure do like your pillows. A very comfortable sleep, I must say.”

“Comes from the effects of standard living in a cupboard,” Harry quipped, not realizing what he had said as he moved around the room. He turned to see Jean-Claude sitting up elegantly having frozen like a statue. His cheeks were flushed, but his eyes were glimmering with what looked like concealed violence. 

“What? Jean?” Harry touched him, and the man snapped his fingers around his wrist and drawing him closer. 

“I do not understand, why do you speak of a cupboard?” he asked coolly. 

Harry blinked. “Oh, sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I forgot people here don’t already know. I slept in a cupboard for about ten years.” 

“...” Jean-Claude’s mouth opened and closed a few times as if he was trying to think of what to say.

“It wasn’t so bad. I mean, Uncle Vernon was too damn fat to squeeze in there so I was mostly safe. Just lived with spiders, and a few boots. It was tight when I got a bit older though.” 

“You’re telling me they put a toddler in a cupboard?” Jean-Claude hissed, sounding like a pissed off cat. “I do not like that. I do not appreciate that. I may have been a whipping boy, but even I was afforded luxuries.” 

“My relatives hated me. They hated magic, and so they showed it. It’s not a big deal. But I like pillows now. As many as I can get. Come on, I threw your clothes in the wash before going to bed.” It had been one of the last things he had done, setting it to ‘dry cleaning mode’. Especially that frothy lace of a shirt. Magic was great like that. 

“I do believe I am beginning to see a picture,” said Jean-Claude watching Harry move through the room. 

“There is no picture. It’s all in the past, and you can’t erase the past.” 

“True.” How he’d like to drain these people for their uncouth manner. He was never surprised by the damage humans tended to inflict on each other. Vampires were no different, they saw a weakness and then they marched straight toward it. 

But, Harry was Harry. He was the warmest most empathic creature that Jean-Claude had ever met. He was beginning to see why. He was also beginning to see why it was hard for Harry to see himself as anything more than a trapped boy in a box. At least his past life as a child afforded him freedoms. He may have been a whipping boy, but he had everything, and he’d been grateful for the opportunity to rise above his station. 

“If you need to get back while evading the sun I can port-key or apparate you directly to your room. Shower is on the right.” 

“You should join me.” He grinned. 

“Then we’d never get out of there.” 

Jean-Claude reached for him, tugging his wrist. “I do not care how long we last in the shower. I wish you with me.” 

Harry shivered at the sweet taint of blood on Jean-Claude’s breath. “Okay. But, I’m sure poor Jason is bored out of his mind.” Jason didn’t seem to concern Jean-Claude, and he knew he was going to be thoroughly sore. “And here I thought you wanted me to eat.” 

“What can I say? Your blood has me a bit more energetic, and I really wish for you up against me.” 

It wasn’t until an hour later that they were out of the bath. Harry once again thoroughly shagged, and Jean-Claude, the primping man that he was, had asked about things like gel and sprays. Harry ended up summoning Draco’s stuff to him. Jean-Claude approved, even admitting to having some of the same at home. Of course he did. 

“No amount of gel will see my hair laying anything but awkward, Mr. Perfect.” 

He found Jason in the basement working out, and after a quick dinner for both Jason and Harry with Jean-Claude sitting beside Harry and making comments on the food that he could taste through their marks, he sent them back to the Circus with a port-key, and his house became too quiet. So still. 

Harry had liked them here, but he knew that Jean-Claude was a busy Master of the City. He couldn’t go too long away without causing a stir unless he planned for it first. Last night had not been planned. 

Harry hadn’t planned to shag the vampire. In fact, he had wanted to hold off, but seeing Jean-Claude so enriched with his own blood, and the fire of wanting to own him. Harry couldn’t resist. It looked like he lost that challenge; but really, was it really a challenge if the loser ended up on the best end?

Bert had left a message on the only answering machine Harry owned. A client was scheduled to meet him in exactly forty minutes. He scowled. He hated it when Bert scheduled things for him without notifying him beforehand. Harry had told him that if he was picked up by the police for a case to put a pause on all his clients. Rich arses could wait a few days to raise their dead loved ones for contested wills after all. 

All to make a buck! It had to be Bert’s personal moto the way he acted.

Harry had to hurry, and he wasn’t in the most appropriate clothing to be meeting clients. He was unsurprised that when he went into his room he saw a folded set of clothes on the end of his made up bed. A pair of tight low sitting denim jeans that hugged his thighs like a glove with a boot cut, and a silver loose boat-neck short-sleeved shirt that clung to him. He topped it off with a pair of black and green veined dragon-hide buttoned boots that went to his ankle. It gave him a good two inches of lift. Bert didn’t like them wearing black in the office. 

He attached his modified belt, and after last night he grabbed the box from beneath his bed of the guns that Edward always dropped in with and took an extra magazine, and the silver gleaming magnum. He snatched one of the black leather thigh holsters, and added some charms to make it invisible before attaching it to his thigh, and sliding the magnum inside so that it rested on the outside of his leg. 

He grimaced when he stepped outside to the bright sun with a cup of coffee. His eyes burned, and he remembered he still had that pair of Jean-Claude’s sunglasses he’d borrowed, and quickly summoned them before shoving them onto his face and walking out into the hellfire of heat. Harry had learned quickly not even a year living in St. Louis that the humidity could be worse than the temperature, and both were hitting triple digits at the same time only made it more miserable. 

His car felt like a fiery pit of hell. He wiped the sweat from his brow, the rest of his clothes were cool thanks to the charms, and he blasted his air conditioner the moment he turned the engine on. 

“Good afternoon, Harry!” Mary cheered the moment he walked through the glass doors to the lobby. He shoved his glasses onto the top of his head, and wiped the corners of his nose where the sweat was most prominent. 

“Afternoon, Mary. Anyone else other than my impromptu client?” he asked tightly as he approached the desk. 

She typed something into her computer. “Nope. Did he make an unsolicited appointment again?” 

Harry scowled. “Yes. He needs to stop that. Crime over raising, that’s what I told him when  _ he _ started loaning me out. Any idea who it is?” 

“Just a young woman.” 

Harry sighed. “I hope it’s not another one of those therapists ones. I hate those.” 

“Can’t blame you. Ooh, what have you been doing?” Mary grinned when she noticed the bites and marks riddling the side of his neck. 

Harry resisted blushing as he clasped them. “ _ Nothing. _ ” He quickly walked away for the elevator, and ignored her loud laughing. He hit the button, and waited as he let go of his neck. 

He should have spelled them to disappear, but he hadn’t thought about it. He stepped in once the elevator doors opened, it was completely empty being late afternoon. He sipped at his still hot coffee, and nodded to a subdued Jamison when he passed him in the hall. 

“Harry, did you find out anything-?” 

“I’m waiting for John to call back,” he told Jamison. “I need him to help me with the things Peter had on him.” He had his hand on the door and cracked it a bit. 

Jamison nodded. “I’ll give him a call.” 

“I already did and was trying to be discreet about it as I had to leave a message on Peter Burke’s answering machine.” 

“Thank you, Harry.” 

“Don’t thank me yet, Jamison. I need something solid first before I get a thanks.” He smiled and swept into his office only to freeze when the person who had been sitting in front of his desk stood. 

“Harry!” 

His stomach shot into his throat, and he nearly choked when he saw a woman he hadn’t seen since she was nothing more than a seventeen year old bossy pain in his arse. 

Her hair was still the intangible mess of chocolate brown curls. She had gained some height and filled out well into her twenty-something woman figure. She wore a brown pleated skirt to her knees and a creme color short-sleeved blouse. Her eyes were the same brown as her hair and skirt. 

Her eyes widened when she got a good look at him, and he supposed he might look different without his glasses and wearing stylish clothes that fit him perfectly. He stood about an inch taller than her. Likely the boots, otherwise they’d be even or her taller. 

“It’s really you!” She ran at him, and he managed to move his hand that had the coffee as she looped herself around him. “I’ve missed you so much!” 

Harry didn’t know what to say because he wasn’t entirely sure if he missed her at all. “Hermione,” he said, using his other hand to pat her on the shoulder. 

She took in a deep breath and backed up, her cheeks turning rosy. “Wow…. you’ve really changed!” 

“Have I? Most people tell me I haven’t grown enough.” 

“No, you look really good. Your hair looks blacker. Did you dye it?” She reached up and flicked one of the gravity defying strands. “So black! Blacker than Professor Snape’s was!” 

“Why?” 

“Your eyes seem brighter too, but maybe that’s because you have no glasses. Potion? Contacts?” 

“Something of that nature.” He wasn’t about to tell her anything significant. He unglued his feet from the ground, and veered around her to his desk, which was as unpersonalized as you could get. 

Bert had wanted him to bring in a personalized mug and photographs to add to the collection. All the Animators shared the desk. Manny had his family’s picture sitting in a frame on the edge. Jamison had one of his personalized mugs, but Harry hadn’t found a reason to bring anything in. 

For one, he didn’t have a personalized mug. Draco was all about matching and coordination after all, and so he was stuck with his nice green, purple, silver, or black mugs that were all nearly the same with a fancy swirl along the lacquer. He was thinking way too much about coffee mugs, and that was because of the girl, or rather  _ woman _ , who had thrown him off. 

She was his appointment? “You made an appointment?” he asked carefully sitting down and crossing his leg over his knee. “How did you know I was here?” He hadn’t told anyone where he was going except for the Malfoys, Luna, and Andy. He was sure none of them would have opened their mouths. 

“It wasn’t easy. No one would tell us a thing!” She came over to sit, breathless as she was as she pulled out a folder from her large brown purse. 

Good. “Hm.” He frowned when she opened it to see newspaper clippings. He frowned when he saw a newspaper photo of him on the front page. 

_ “Supernatural Slayed: Detectives Call Expert Harry Potter-Black.” _

It was last months edition, and it was the day they’d found Theresa’s body near the Circus. Another clipping. “ _ JC Corporation and Black Enterprises to Refurbish Riverfront! _ ” It wasn’t front page news, more like third or fourth page with a photograph of the beautiful new park with a massive two million dollar fountain that glimmered. It was five tiered, and Harry had managed to work some magic to make the water flow like glittering diamonds into its curvy round bottom. At night it lit up various colors of the rainbow. It seemed to have transformed the Riverfront into something a bit more fantastic, off-setting the rundown warehouses along the streets. 

“I didn’t know where you were except in America, and I kept watch as much as I could! I then found this headline of you with the police.” She held up the first clipping with a tap of her finger. “I couldn’t believe it! I searched for years, and nothing! But then this!” Her face was now the familiar red that he remembered when she got so passionate about something. He was trying not to sag in his seat, keeping as ram-rod straight as he could. “When I got into town this morning I stopped at a convenient mart for something to drink, I spotted this!” She pulled out one of those Muggle gossip magazines. 

_ ‘Star Night Enquirer’  _ and he cringed inwardly. It was the equivalent of the celebrity rags that were so popular at every checkout shop in the world. It was devoted to all things that went bump in the night, and there he was emblazoned on the front standing in front of Jean-Claude who had his usual seductive smirk swept across his face. His hand was touching Harry’s lower back, and he was tilted down as if listening to something Harry was saying. Irving was across from them staring at the ground, but no one cared about him. Merlin, these guys were fast.

“Okay,” he said swallowing slowly. What else was he going to say? “You found me.” 

“Yes! I did!” She looked proud of herself. 

Harry was not so proud of her if he were being honest. “Who knows I’m here?” 

“Huh?” 

“Who -  _ knows _ \- I am here?” he asked coldly. 

Hermione flinched at the hard stare that he had crafted years ago. “Erm, no one! I swear, I didn’t tell anyone, Harry. I promise!” 

“You didn’t tell the Weasleys?” 

“Of course not!” Hermione shook her head. “I haven’t spoken to the Weasleys in over a year, Harry!” 

Harry was surprised at this, and relaxed a bit. “Why not?” 

Hermione frowned and looked away. “I didn’t realize why you left at first. I was so mad at you! I felt betrayed,” she started off as she balled her hands into fists. Harry said nothing, and let her finish what she was on about. “I was so sad. You just - one day you were gone. No word to anyone except an official confirmation that you were leaving the magical world and Britain behind. Oh, the Weasleys were furious. Ginny went around the bend. D’you know she has four kids now? All different fathers!” Harry still made no expression. “It’s driving Molly Weasley crazy, I’ll tell you that. Ginny can’t take care of them. But… it wasn’t long before things got bad - for me.” 

She took several raging gulps, and Harry realized that she wasn’t here to try and self-righteously call him back. He reached down to the small refrigerator he kept on hand where he stored bottles of water for clients. He took one out and handed it over. 

She gave him a look of thanks. “It was a nightmare, and never should have been. Ron proposed and I was so happy, but then - then came the demands!” Her eyes narrowed, and she almost spilled the water bottle with her tight grip. She placed it down. “I had just finished school, and I had planned to go to university for a few years. At least get an associates degree you know? I’m from both worlds. I don’t want to up and leave one for the other exclusively! We all started fighting about what I should and shouldn’t do. It seems that the Weasleys, including Ron, expected me to simply drop everything, including my surname!” She was up now and pacing. 

Harry could only watch the familiar gait she took on. Her hair frizzing even wilder. “Molly Weasley kept insinuating that Weasley women didn’t work, that they were the caretakers of the home. Fleur did it, Audrey did it, and so surely I was destined to. She said I should start getting in my role, and how I should be proud to have their name as my name doesn’t mean anything!” 

Oh wow, Harry wouldn’t have imagined that the Weasley matriarch would say something so stupid. But, then again this was Molly Weasley, and for years what she said went, no matter what anyone else wanted. It was her way or the highway. 

_ Yeah _ . He was beginning to understand a few things. Hermione took several big gulps of ice water, and shook her head. 

“I’m a first bloody generation! I did not fight in a war for Muggleborn rights to give up my surname!” Hermione glowering. “And if that wasn’t bad enough, she started trying to plan  _ when _ and  _ where _ and _ how _ I should have children! As if what’s between my legs is her business at all! And Ron that great ruddy prat just sat there! I told him to back me up, and he about had a heart attack!” She shook her head. “I broke it off fourteen months ago, and since then I’ve been really trying to find you. I tried to ask Andromeda, but she never answers the Floo anymore. But I overheard a conversation at the bank when I was getting some things transferred. It was Draco Malfoy. He was telling his mother how St. Louis was humid this time of the year, and I just knew that was where you were.” 

“Big mouth,” Harry muttered, no longer feeling defensive or ired by Hermione’s presence. He settled back and crossed his arms. “Draco’s always had loose lips and tongue.” 

Hermione took a breath. “So, Malfoy is here living with you?” 

“Most of the time. He attends the University of Missouri. You’d be proud of him, Hermione. He’s changed. He loves cars, fashion, and the food. He even has long talks with Muggles every day in his groups, and likes my boss.” Hermione was wide-eyed hearing it. “He’s still a great bloody spoiled prat with too much money, but he’s a good friend. Now, I hope you didn’t come here to give me a lecture.” 

She shook her head. “No. I realized why you left. You were being pigeonholed all your life, and they were trying to do that to me. I put up with it believing I could change their views, but it was just one fight after another. I was so sick of it. How did you do it?” 

“I don’t know,” Harry confessed. “I still don’t know to this day.” 

“You’re an Animator? It’s illegal in Britain.” 

“A lot of things are illegal in Britain,” Harry reminded. “I have the talent. It’s been in me since birth, and I’m damn good at it.” 

“You must be to be on papers in the Muggle world. Is this a vampire?” She tapped Jean-Claude’s perfect image. Her cheeks had gone red. 

Harry’s lip twitched. “You can’t tell? He makes Fleur look like a wallflower.” 

Hermione made a noise. “Perhaps…” She sighed. “I want a life, Harry. I realized I can’t get one where I was at. I got offered a teaching spot for Transfiguration from the Headmistress, but I felt like I shouldn’t do it. I needed to leave. So, the second I found out about you and where you were, I thought I’d try. If you want me to go…” 

Harry sighed.  _ Dammit _ . His heart wouldn’t let him just throw her out. She hadn’t done anything, and it seemed to him that when he left, those in his life turned around and tried their shit with Hermione. Problem was they tried it when she turned adult, and she was much too smart to fall for it. “No, I don’t want you to leave Hermione,” She brightened, “but I’ve crossed a lot of bridges in the last few years. I’m not the same Harry you knew. Not really.” 

“Are any of us? I want something bigger in my life. I want it to have meaning. I want to go back to college. I was rushed through Oxford, and then I had to put up with the Weasleys telling me that it was pointless. I never got a chance to enjoy it. How the bloody hell is education pointless?”

“You could probably check out the University of Missouri. It’s a big school, lots of work I hear. Poor Draco destroyed a computer trying to get his thesis done on time.” 

Hermione was stunned. “He uses a computer?” 

“Sure does. Still, his accidental magic gets the better of him. But, you’d be surprised what he doesn’t use. You can stay with me if you like instead of some stuffy hotel. I have tons of room, but be warned. I come in and out of all hours, and people come around a lot. Particularly night owls.” 

“You and this man?” She held up the paper, her cheeks turning pink, and her eyes glittering. 

Harry flushed and looked away. It was then she saw the marks. “You’ve been bit!” She gasped leaning up on the desk to look at the bites on his neck. 

“Yes, yes. First time he bit me was last night, okay? I let him! Let’s not talk about it right now.” He expected a lecture or something along those lines, but then Hermione let out a giggle. 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I’d probably let him bite me too,” she chirped making Harry choke on a laugh. “I’m sorry the way we treated you Harry. We were very wrong.” 

“Yes you were,” said Harry boldly reaching for his mug. It’d gone lukewarm now, and he sat it aside. “You all expected me to keep falling in line with the status quo, and to do what you thought I should do rather than what I wanted to do. My life has changed a lot. You might not like it, Hermione. I’m not as light as I used to be. Let me just make that clear.” He wanted desperately to have her around again. He admitted to part of him having missed her intelligence and even her bossy nature. She would have been great to talk to if she’d been around when the whole Jean-Claude thing began. She would have been a breath of fresh air. 

“Animation is dark magic,” she murmured looking around the office. “America turned it into a real career.” 

“Mhmm, but I am not an Animator, Hermione. I am in fact a Necromancer. There is a difference. I encompass all manner of death, not just raising zombies for rich bastards to confirm their wills. I’m on retainer with the St. Louis police department as their expert into the Supernatural. If only they’d get a few vampires and weres on their staff, but you know how people are with their prejudices.”

She nodded imperiously when he said this. “Is it as bad here?”

“Yes and no. It all depends on where you go and who you talk to. So, you don’t need anyone raised, right?” 

“No!” She shook her head. “It was the only way I could find you. So I made an appointment. I had to pay double the others here you know. You’re expensive!” 

Harry laughed. “Not to sound like Draco, but I am the best on staff. Besides, Bert needs some extra cushioning for when I kick his arse for going against my rules. If I’m currently on a case with the police my clients are to be put on hold or shifted to others who have availability until I’m done. He started the whole thing last year to get more reputation and promotion for the business. I had a rough night last night. I had no plans to be here, and I have an appointment later tonight.” He checked the clock on the wall. It was half past eight. He had some time. “But I don’t have to be there until the sun really goes down.” 

“A date?” she asked grinning. 

“I wish. No. If you want to have a late dinner across the street at Mabels, I can fill you in.” He didn’t see why not. He wouldn’t tell her everything, but Hermione was here now and maybe he could use her big brain. 

He wasn’t stupid enough to turn away a genius. 

Her eyes lit up at the invite. “I could! I’m actually starving.” Harry was already on his feet, and banished his coffee mug. Harry was hungry too. All the blood being drawn from him earlier had him getting hungry quicker. “I was so excited and nervous that I couldn’t eat a thing!” 

“Sorry about that.” He almost felt bad as they took the elevator. 

She shook her head. “I understand. You left and made your life here. I guess we all had to separate at some point. It was just so hard you know? You were kind of the glue between Ron and me; and when you left it went downhill fast!” 

Mary beamed at Harry as he walked passed her, and out the door into the still too hot weather. It was cloying, the scent of asphalt and staleness in the air. Harry who’d had his glasses on his head shoved them back down over his eyes. Hermione had hers clipped to her shirt, and was doing the same. 

“Man, you really have changed, Harry,” breathed Hermione. “You kind of look like a celebrity now.” 

“I do not,” assured Harry. 

“No, you really do, and yet you look as though you haven’t aged!” 

Harry lead her down the footpath along the busy road of downtown to the crosswalk, and hit the button to wait for the lights to turn. 

“No idea what to tell you,” he said. “I’ve been here since I left. I found out the Blacks own a lot of properties, including the building that Animators runs out of, and since it’s my talent - it seemed perfect to come here.” 

“And Draco? How does he fit in?” 

“Two years later he followed me or rather followed Teddy.” 

Hermione hummed. “That’s the only thing I don’t understand. How did you forgive Lucius Malfoy?” she asked as the traffic stopped on all sides, and the two started to cross. A few businessmen and women were coming their way, and a teenage boy on his bicycle. 

“Who says anything about forgiving, Hermione? Instead, I saw an opportunity to exploit. Not to mention after Narcissa saved my life what was I supposed to do? I’m not saying they’re clean with clean hands, bloody hell, no one is clean,” he said shaking his head. “But, they helped me, and I helped them, and somehow Draco became a good friend for me as an adult. I don’t care about Lucius. It’s Cissa who never really wanted her son in any of that, but what choice did she have? She had to follow her husband. His rules. His household. She could do nothing.” Hermione scowled at this. “But, then she did do something. She could have earned points, telling Voldemort I was alive, and he could have really done it. But because she cared more about her son than the bloody war, and she was so over it, she lied. It was because of her lie we were able to win.” 

“That’s true, and I know I shouldn’t judge a whole family based on one person. I’ve learned that over the years!” 

Mabels was a little diner about three blocks away from Animators, not far from the Riverfront, and situated at the back of a small stretch of wood with a nice sized parking lot. It was the old fashioned type diner with tufted brown booths, wide windows making up the entirety of the diner, and the smell of biscuits and something fried. It was an open all night sort of place, and so Harry and many of his co-workers would use it as a place to relocate if they had a long night in the office without clients. Endless cups of coffee and paperwork.

“Good afternoon, Harry. How are you?” asked one of the waitresses. 

“Great madam.” 

“Sit anywhere you like today!” 

“Cheers!” He took a seat in the corner so that he could see the entrance and exits. He was brought another cup of coffee and cherry coke. Harry made small talk. The waitress apologizing after she heard about Peter Burke’s death, and hoped Jamison was getting on alright. 

“Wow, you really are well known here,” Hermione realized after ordering the sweet tea with lemon from the kindly waitress. She then seemed to only realize what he’d said about necromancy being his talent. “You’ve always been able to do necromancy?”

“I didn’t know it,” Harry confessed already knowing what he wanted; both ended up ordering food at the same time as their drinks. He was craving their meatloaf with the ketchup like sauce, and blackberry pie. He had a feeling this was Jean-Claude’s doing. “But, odd things did like to happen around me. I seemed to have had an affinity with death or deadly things. It was only highlighted one night when Dobby came back to me. I found him sleeping beside me on the bed in Grimmauld.” 

Hermione clasped a hand to her chest. “Oh my!” 

“Yeah, not much I could do about it at that point. I had no clue what I was doing, and with necromancy being as illegal as it is, there was little chance of discovering how to control it. Then I got a break. Voldemort left a will, and everything in it was mine.” 

Hermione gasped. “You’re serious?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah.” he told her a rough outline of what had happened, and she sat back in the booth circling all this over in her mind. 

“I can’t believe it.” 

“Neither could I.” As the waitress brought their drinks, and Hermione’s cup of soup. “So as you can see with America’s lax in laws I decided all was well here. I met up with an acquaintance who showed me a different way of life, and I learned how to not only control it, but to control my powers, and learn more about magic. I learned more here in less than seven years than I did in school, and by what we term as Muggles no less.” 

“Wow, looks like I’ve been in the wrong place for too long,” she said, sipping the cold tea and humming. “This is good.” She sipped it again. 

“Everything here is good.” 

As the rest of their food arrived, Harry told her a little more about what he was doing at his job, and his part time work. All the while leaving the gore and horrifying things out of the picture. He didn’t want to drag her back into it. She would feel the need to get involved, and he didn’t want her involved. 

He was finishing off his pie as she cleaned her plate of the grilled chicken and broccoli when Harry noticed that a man had been staring at them for a little too long. He raised his eyes casually, and found the man angled along the corner counter. It wouldn’t have been so curious if the man hadn’t been glancing over at them every so often wearing a jean jacket in stifling humid August heat. 

It meant he was carrying something he shouldn’t be. He frowned as he dropped his eyes and pushed his plate back. He wiped his mouth aware of the man continually looking at him as if watching and waiting. Hermione was telling him some of the ridiculous things Molly Weasley had done that would have taken all the world back at least a hundred years, especially for women. 

“And yet they wanted me to settle down with a woman I had no interest in.” 

Hermione winced. “Yeah. I hadn’t realized it then. I was still coming down off the war and the fact that we were all alive, the needed to rebuild, and the need for everything to go back to the way it was. I didn’t realize we’d hurt you until they started doing it to me. I’m really sorry, Harry.” 

“It’s okay, Hermione. At least you own it, and admit to your wrongdoings. Ron wouldn’t understand what he’d done if it danced naked in front of him wearing a sign with an explanation.” 

She snorted. “Definitely not.” 

Harry could feel the back of his neck prickling with warning. Someone was beyond the windows where he sat. He wanted to look behind him, but knew better than to make a scene or give away that he knew he was being stared at. 

There were four other customers including one family with two small children. At first glance, he would think that the man at the corner might be ready to rob Mabels, but he didn’t think so. He would be looking at the register and watching the waitresses. He wouldn’t have an interest in Harry at all. 

Harry dropped a thirty dollars onto the counter. “I have to use the loo, if the waitress comes back just give her the rest.”

He slid out casually aware of the weight of his hidden thigh holster as he headed to the back where the bathrooms sat. He saw before he reached the corner turn that the man was on his feet. 

Harry took the magnum out of its place as he slipped into the men’s bathroom. He cast a quiet silencer on the gun itself. After a quick check for customers, he pressed himself to the wall next to the swinging door. 

As Mr. Jean Jacket pushed the door open, his eyes narrowed, and he reached to pull a gun, but Harry was on him, magnum to his temple. “You really want to do that?” Harry double-clicked on the safety, finger on the trigger. 

“You make too much noise everyone will hear you including that pretty thing you’re with. Can’t be a girlfriend, they say you’re a fag. Pete will like you for that.” He grinned audaciously. 

Harry smiled back, but it had no warmth. Instead it was akin to frost bite that made the man falter slightly. “You must not have been told much. All I’d have to do is clean your blood from the bathroom. No one has to know what happened in this room.” He waved his hand and a small .22 caliber Beretta shot out of the man’s jacket causing him to flinch. “See? Silence is a friend of mine.  _ Just _ like Death.” 

He couldn’t help but enjoy watching the narrow eyes widened, the tenseness in muscles beyond the jacket, and the sweat rolling down the man’s face into his collar. 

“Who is the other with you?” 

“I don’t know-” He flinched some more when Harry’s gun pressed harder into his temple. 

“I  _ know _ when I’m being watched. Did Gaynor send you?” He smirked at the flicker of acknowledgment. “Ah, I figured that much. You’re not bewitched enough for the other on my arse or dead enough.” 

It happened sometimes with people who are in panic mode, they act without thinking and this guy, Harry doubted, did much thinking. He was a muscle that was bought and paid for. A hit for hire on the bad streets of St. Louis. Mr. Jean Jacket tried to attack him only for Harry to smack the butt of the gun over his head causing him to crash down like a pinata. Harry was now standing over the bleeding bastard. He kicked him over onto his back and stepped on his chest. 

“Please no! I’m sorry!” 

“Who is with you?” Harry shoved the barrel between the man’s eyes making him go cross. “Tell me now or I will blow your head off.” 

“P-Pete. H-he’s around the corner, hiding behind the building. He’s waiting for you to come out.” 

“How long have you been following me?” 

“Since you left Animators Inc.” Fuck, that long? Harry hadn’t noticed, so focused and surprised by Hermione. 

“Did Gaynor send you?” 

“H-His bodyguard hired me.” 

“Which one.” 

“Bruno. Please, man, the money ain’t worth it. Please let me go, I’ll not tell them anything.” 

Harry snorted. “Sorry, but I don’t really believe that. For now, I’m going to put you on ice.” 

“No!” 

“ _ Stupefy! _ ” His wand already out, and with a flash of red, the bleeding man was knocked out. Harry then turned him into a mouse, and after procuring an unbreakable jar that he put holes in, he lifted it by the tail and tossed it inside before capping it. 

He scoured the blood on the floor when he heard a knock. “Harry! Harry! Are you alright? I saw a flash of red light!” 

Dammit. Hermione, as sharp as ever. Harry took in a breath. He had another to deal with, and Hermione was in his way. She was going to know. He opened the door, and her eyes gasped when she saw he held a gun in one hand that was bloody, a mouse caged in the other. 

“Get in here.” 

Hermione shuffled in not caring it was the men’s restroom. “Harry!” 

“It’s not what it looks like.” He sealed the door, and went over to the counter of sinks and mirrors and sat the jar on top of it. 

“What is it then? Were you attacked?” 

That was the one thing he appreciated about Hermione. She didn’t automatically assume that he was some dark and evil bastard. 

“Yes,” Harry answered. “And I have one more to deal with. He’s hidden outside. He’s not dead. He’s just a mouse so I can question him later.” He washed his hands in the sink, and then the butt of his gun. 

“What have you been into?” she asked looking at the jar with holes in the lid. “Who is this?” 

“No idea, but what muggle in their right mind would wear a jean jacket in this weather unless he was packing something?” 

Hermione stood up straight. “Packing? You say packing… oh Merlin, Harry! You’ve had this before?” 

“My job can get dangerous,” said Harry. “More so these days than ever. I was going to tell you about it over dinner, but I got distracted by this bastard. You see, sometimes people come to the firm for less than good reasons.” 

“I kind of gathered that with the questions that your boss was asking me.” 

“Yeah, well just recently we had a man who tried to make me raise a three hundred year old corpse. I refused.” 

Hermione placed a hand on her hip. “Why did you refuse? Surely that’s within your power.” 

“It requires a bigger sacrifice. Human.” 

“Oh! I need to study up. I’ve not read anything about necromancy. I hate not knowing something.” 

“Exactly. I refused him, outright. Not something I was going to do. He’s been stalking me. One of his bodyguards hired this bloke. I have to find the other and fast before he does something stupid. I plan to question them better. What I’m doing tonight is hunting a woman for information. She was his lover, and it’s a precarious situation. Jean-Claude is going to be my guide.” 

“That’s the vampire right?” 

“Mhmm.”

“What did he want to dig up? What is this zombie that he wants so bad?” 

“I haven’t the foggiest because the moment he said it, I was out the door. I wanted nothing to do with it. But, I think it’s connected.” 

“Connected with what?” 

“A string of murders, zombie attacks. I think he’s involved somehow. We have a rampant zombie that’s eating people. It kidnapped a child and held him alive for two days. It was a nightmare.” 

“How terrible. Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked hopefully. 

“Not right now. Maybe later you can. But, for now. I have to find his partner. Keep your wand on you.” 

“Always. I never leave without it.” It was already in her hand. He suspected she too had an invisible holster on her forearm. “What are you going to do with that?” She poked at the jar. 

“Can I use your purse?” 

She groaned, and then set it on the counter and jerked it open. “It better not get out.” 

“It’s sealed.” He sat it inside, and she zipped it. 

“Right. Let’s go then. Just like old times!” 

If he couldn't have Edward, Jean-Claude, or Rafael as a backup, Hermione was probably his fourth best option.  _ Really, don’t let Draco find out _ . He had the strongest of every species just about. 

Yay him! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any of our readers speak French? We have a few questions and want to make sure we're doing some stuff right. Please leave a review and let us know. (^_^)


	12. Chapter Twelve

#  Chapter Twelve

Pete was a rotund man who wore shirts that were far too small. Harry had whisked them away by apparation back to his house, and he’d set up a cage in one of the old rooms on the fourth floor to house them. Harry enjoyed their look of terror when they entered one of the sheet draped rooms with dust and gray and black fuzzy wolf spiders the size of their heads scuttling about. Spiderwebs lined most of the corners, and it smelled as if it’d been stale for centuries. 

Hermione hadn’t even flinched at seeing them. He was proud of her. 

Each man was tied up to a chair by leather bound cords. He learned the man in the jacket was named Seymour. Hermione had her wand trained on them. Pete had made some rather nasty remarks about Harry, and what he wanted to do to him. 

Hermione hadn’t taken that very well, and had offered him a bloody nose without a wand. Apparently, to get over her frustrations she’d been taking Judo, and had earned her black-belt a few months ago. 

Both of them learned that Bruno had not only paid them a meager four hundred bucks, but to also take them to a place off Grand, on Washington Blvd. Hermione hadn’t been in the deal, but Seymour had hinted that he was allowed to do whatever he wanted with her as she wasn’t on Bruno’s dinner plate. 

It earned another right hook to the nose courtesy of Hermione. Both of them begged for their lives, and Hermione suggested turning them over to the police. 

Harry cast a spell so that the two couldn’t hear them. “Not a good idea. If things come to a head, I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands. I don’t want to leave a trail.” 

“You’re going to kill them?” 

“What else can I do? They are too dangerous for the police. Hell, the police can barely handle the petty thieves these days. No, they’ll be let out in a week to be hired to hurt someone else for a buck. Someone who doesn’t have the defenses that I have.” 

She groaned at this. “I hate corruption!” She hissed crossing her arms over her chest. 

“It’s not corruption so much as the problem is this vaudun priestess.” 

Hermione cringed. “Vaudun?” 

“Yeah. Dominga Salvador. Ever heard of her?” 

“No, but I know vaudun,” she said darkly. 

“She’s dangerous. I think she is somehow involved in all this, and she is too much for the police, and I don’t want those on the RPIT squad to meet her. She’s like a human basilisk.” 

Hermione sighed, one hand on her hip as she scratched her head with her wand. Her face was dirty from the dust in the room, and also sweaty. He was about the same he would imagine. “Merlin, you can’t get a break can you?” she asked sadly. 

“Nope. Last month I dealt with an animator who had come back to life as a zombie. He was using a Gris-Gris for immortality, and killing vampires for his Gris-Gris.” He shook his head. “I managed to have that covered up when I finished him off. If I told the police right now about what’s going on, they’d be looking at me. I like my life here, Hermione. I don’t want it ruined.”

Hermione gave an understanding nod after a moment. “I understand Harry. I’m not seventeen anymore,” she assured him. “But, what about wiping their memories? Of ever having met you?” 

“It might work. But if they go back, Bruno will kill them.” 

“That’s not on you. You’re not their baby-sitter. At least your hands will be clean.” She had a point. “Or…” she smirked. “We could return them to being a mouse, and you can keep them locked away until this whole situation is over.” 

“Probably easiest. But the spiders would make a meal out of them.” He smirked when one had crawled onto Pete with it’s fuzzy eight legs causing the man to shriek louder than a banshee, though no one could hear it. Seymour was tied up right in front of him watching in horror. 

Harry was starting to feel a modicum of guilt about it. “Oh fine! Off you!” he ordered the spider, and it scuttled away when sparks flew from Harry’s wand. 

It was too funny as they set up a cage for the two mice. Pete was quite a bit fatter and plumper as Harry dumped them into the cage. Hermione had even charmed one of those colorful spinning wheels and tunnels. 

“He might need the exercise,” she added with a sly smile. 

“Hermione Granger ever the activist,” Harry teased as he cast a plethora of charms so that the glass couldn’t break. He’d also added a temporary permanent charm to keep them trapped. 

“What can I say? It’s in my nature.  _ Ulgh _ , that room upstairs was nasty!” She tried to pat down the dust and cobwebs that attached to her clothing. Her hair was also webbed. “Ulgh!” she pulled a string out. “I need a shower!” 

“Yes, it’s far too much for even two people to manage,” he told her as they left them in the drawing room of their new home. 

Harry gave Hermione a small tour. She loved Teddy’s room, and had squawked when she saw Draco’s room, and how it was full of DVDs and a massive flatscreen along one wall. “I thought you were exaggerating!” 

“No,” he laughed grinning. 

“Whose room is that?” asked Hermione when he passed by Edwards. 

“Edward. Just Edward. You don’t want to know anything more. He comes and goes. He was an acquaintance of Remus and was one of my teachers.” 

“I see.” 

Harry said no more about Edward, and gave Hermione her own room with its own bathroom. “It’s really nice. It’s too bad Grimmauld wasn’t this nice.” 

“I think this might have been a squib cast-off manor. I have to get dressed soon too. Go get my car, and head to The Laughing Corpse. I’d take you with me, but I don’t even know if this woman will talk to me. I don’t want to bring a gang with me.” 

“How is this woman involved?” 

“She was Gaynor’s lover. She’s also a prostitute.” 

“That’s alright. I think I’ve gotten a big enough shock for one night. You sure I can stay here?” 

“You know you can Hermione,” said Harry. “I’m glad you’re here.” And he meant it. He really was glad she was here. If he got _ this _ Hermione, the mature brilliant witch of a woman, he thought at least he would be able to have one of his childhood friends around. Draco was great and all, but he was a present and future, and there were some subjects that the two never brought up if only on principle. 

“Really?” 

“Now that you’re ironed out and not so bratty.” He grunted when she punched him playfully in the stomach. “ _ What? _ You were a pain!” 

Hermione flushed. “Maybe I agree with you, but you don’t have to point it out. I need to get my stuff from the hotel.” She hugged him around the waist, and then snickered. “You got toned, Harry!” 

“Shut up!” Harry groaned actually hugging her back this time. 

“Still the same embarrassed Harry I remember,” she teased cocking her head, and grinning. “I look forward to learning more. Do you have a library here?” 

“You know I do. It’s filled with all kinds of things. All kinds of magic, missy.” Her eyes dazzled. “You do know dark magic isn’t inherently evil?” 

“I know that  _ now _ ; and in Britain, it’s bad. There are books and tomes that are being burned around every corner. Luckily, there are spells around Hogwarts that prevents books from being burned or taken off the property,” she said with great insult. “No one is going to learn anything worthwhile. It’s another reason I turned down Transfiguration. I agree that care needs to be taken, but I am also aware that a lot of light magic can be just as bad.” 

“Exactly. I have been known to use certain spells that would see even me lynched, but not without reason. I use all I have at my disposal, and when it’s appropriate. When you play with nightlife you have to fight like the nightlife.”

She nodded, remembering their time on the run and against Voldemort. She wasn’t all that skittish anymore about things, especially if she listened to the damn Weasleys. It was all about intent, and she’d never seen Harry Potter look better than he did standing there before her. 

He was glowing with contentment, and though he was fighting again and doing his best to save or help someone, he did it because he  _ wanted _ to; not because it was expected. He was happy, and she wasn’t about to ruin that happiness. 

St. Louis looked good on him.

oOo

It was after ten, the lights in the District had shuddered on casting a rather magnanimous glow along the Riverfront. In the distance, Harry could see the lovely park with it’s enchanted fountain feature. It seemed to light up the district with it’s well attended fields of healthy sod and looping footpaths edged with flowers that Harry might have used his magic on to stay looking nice. It made all the old buildings look newer and more healthy than they really were. 

Harry and Jean-Claude hoped to one day have everything refurbished to a state that was more than for tourists, but rather home to all the supernatural in St. Louis. Jean-Claude had a vision, and Harry would do what he could to help. 

Laughter was all around him as men and women passed him by. Couples enjoying the atmosphere, and ready for a good night. 

He was still in his denim jeans and boots, but the shirt had to be replaced as it had been splattered with blood, and so he’d changed it out for a deep hunter green military style button down shirt with silver buttons that hugged his frame with the first three unclasped. It’s length stopped at the belt that had all his goodies hidden, and he had no idea why Hermione’s eyes went wide from where she’d been sitting and reading when he told her he was on his way out. 

Now hadn’t that been a blast from the past? Part of him knew he should have told her to go away, but the other part of him. The one that remembered how she, above everyone else, had always had his back even when Ron was being a great prat told him to give her a chance. Once they realized that Harry was no longer up for grabs, they turned to Hermione. She got a quick lesson in what it was like to life in his life. 

He was heading toward the newest and first ever vampire comedy club, and he wasn’t the only one. It was a tall building with a handsome face. A medium size converted warehouse with everything replaced inside and out. All the windows were made into mirrors, Harry’s idea so that it looked fancier, and there was a bright red light that outlined a ticket booth where a woman was taking tickets. A long flowing line of couples and friends were waiting to get in. He hated to be rude, but he was not standing in line as he wound around, and cut in front of a foursome. 

“Hey!” 

“Sorry,” said Harry not looking back as the woman at the ticket booth looked at him. 

“Sir, you can’t cut in line.” 

“I’m not here for the show,” he told her succinctly. “I’m here for Jean-Claude. He’s expecting me.” 

She looked at him with suspicion. “I don’t know… you don’t even look old enough to drink,” she taunted causing Harry’s left eye to twitch. 

“Look, lady you can go ahead and call your manager to let him know I’m here. I doubt he’d want you to turn me away when he knows that Harry is here for him.” Harry rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what you think. One way or another I’m going in, and you won’t stop me.” He turned on his heel cutting them all off. 

“Hey you can’t do that!” He waved his hand and caused the woman in the ticket booth to sit her arse back in her seat. “ _ Aye! _ ” She yelped in surprise. 

He scaled the staircase to the double doors. As most clubs went it was dim with soft lighting. A man just inside the door said. “Ticket please?” He had a T-shirt that said,  _ The Laughing Corpse, it’s a scream _ . A caricature of an open mouthed vampire was drawn rather large across the chest. He was large and muscled and had bouncer tattooed across his forehead. 

Harry didn’t bother, and froze him in place as he walked passed only to be stopped by Willie McCoy. 

“Where’s Jean?” he asked before the little man could say something to him. 

“Harry!” Willie’s eyes widened. “The Master said you’d be here tonight.” He looked Harry over. “But, he’s busy for the moment. He’s asked me to save you a table…” That was when the bouncer stomped through with a growl. 

“How dare you-” 

Harry waved his hand causing the man to go silent. Willie’s eyes went wide. “Let him know I’m Jean-Claude’s?” 

Willie nodded nervously. “He is with Jean-Claude. A  _ very _ important guest.” The bouncer was still glaring at him, being unable to speak. “Uhm, can you make it so he talks again?” 

“Sure. Be good, okay?” Harry asked as though he were asking a puppy. He waved his hand casually and the bouncer coughed. 

“What the hell-?!” 

“Right this way Harry. Go back to your station,” Willie insisted to the bouncer. “You know you could have been nicer.” 

True, he could have. He supposed he was feeling a bit snarky tonight. No idea why. Perhaps, the shitty attempt on his and Hermione’s life had left more for him to chew than he thought. “It’s been an odd day, Willie. I’m in a mood, everyone gets them. You should make sure all the staff know, the ticket girl refused me as well,” he said trying to be kinder about it. 

Willie perked. “Guess you’re right and I’ll spread the word.” He flashed his canines making them glisten in the dim light. 

“How long have you been a manager here?” 

“About two weeks!” 

“Congratulations.” 

“Boss is real good to me, you know?” said Willie grinning. “Things have been so much smoother around here. It’s like a real community.” 

“That’s what it’s supposed to be Willie. Now, are you going to show me a seat so I can wait or not?” 

“Sure!” 

There were a bunch of little round tables packed with people around it. At the front near the lit up stage, that had Harry not feeling very happy, was an empty table with a reserved sign. He was hardly paying attention to Willie actually holding the chair out for him. He allowed it as he sat, and it was scooted in. 

“You want something to drink?” 

Harry was distracted by the two on stage. “Did Jean-Claude approve of this?” he hissed so hotly and so suddenly that Willie almost yelped. “Please answer me.” 

“Er - no, maybe, I don’t know!” 

“ _ Who _ approved of this?” 

On stage was a slender man with short, dark hair. He was thin all over, his face almost cadaverous, but he was definitely human. Harry hated to be judgmental, but seeing the pricks on his arms, he knew they weren’t bites. He had a habit of something else, and beside him was a zombie. It had a blanked out face, and the crowd was staring at it with wonder. The zombie was the butt of jokes, and everyone was laughing at them. Harry’s anger intensified into a rare thing. 

“Erm, Harry?” He ignored the hand on his upper back. 

“Ernie here is the best roommate I ever had,” said the comedian. “He doesn't eat much, doesn’t talk my ear off, doesn’t bring cute chicks home and lock me out while they have a good time.” As the nervous laughter rippled through the audience, Harry was looking at Ernie, horror on his face. 

“I want to know who approved of this.” Willie had a confused look on his face as he turned to the stage. “I know most people don’t give a shit, but imagine if that were you up there in the zombies place?” 

Willie looked back at Harry to see his eyes full of flame. “Do you want a drink?” he asked instead. 

“Anything with cherries,” Harry said through gritted teeth as he watched the zombie stare at the comedian. No one liked being on the receiving end of bad jokes, and no one deserved to be. Even if they don’t understand. 

“Zombies are better than dogs. They’ll fetch your slippers and don’t need to be walked. Ernie’ll even sit at my feet and beg if I tell him to.” 

Ulgh. Harry was already on his feet when the zombie lunged out of nowhere causing all the laughter to halt as it wrapped it’s uninhibited decayed hands around the comedian’s throat and began to squeeze. 

“Ahhgh!” 

Idiot! If zombies are given no orders, they will eventually break whatever spell has a hold of them and they will act as they see fit. A natural what was once human instinct would come out in the zombie, and this zombie did not like being teased. Most zombies don’t kill without an order, but if the essence lingered from a bad raising then all bets were off. 

Harry didn’t wait to see if it was planned before rushing onto stage. “Ernie, come here,” Harry ordered as the spotlight splashed over him suddenly. 

Ernie turned, his grip still tight. “You want to strangle that bastard don’t you? I’d let you, but we’d be in big trouble.” Everyone began to laugh as though it were scripted. “Come on, let’s go.” He used a knife to slice his palm, and the zombie let go of the purple faced comedian who fell to the floor. “That a boy.” Ernie latched onto Harry’s palm, shocking the crowd. 

Willie was standing at the edge of the stage as Harry turned to the comedian. “I’d advise you to get a new career. You’re not very funny, obviously Ernie thought so too.” More laughter as the wheezing comedian got to his feet. 

Willie quickly rushed on stage. “And there you have it, ladies and gentleman, The Amazing Albert and his pet zombie.” 

Harry snorted quietly as the zombie was now cuddling up to him. He was aware of the stares he received across the room. The audience broke out into applause, everyone asking who the British man was. Harry wasn’t about to tell them as he ushered Ernie who was still clasped to him off stage and behind a curtain. “Do you know where you’re rested?” 

As soon as Albert came back stage, Harry had his wand out. “Imperio!” Instantly, he clasped hold of Albert’s mind, and threw a massive amount of compulsion. “ _ You will send Ernie back to where he was laid to rest, and you will never raise another zombie. Do you hear me?” _ Harry demanded with an intensity that had Willie, who slid back stage, flinching. 

“Yes,” said Albert in a calm and blank voice. 

“Good. Ernie. You will go with Albert. You will not hurt him unless he hurts you. You will let him lay you back to rest where you belong. Do you understand?” he asked more gently. 

It blankly looked up at Harry. “Yes,” it managed to croak. 

“Good. Away with you both!” Albert and Ernie soon left the area, and Willie let out a breath. 

Willie shivered as the two ambled passed him. Harry cleaned his cut and made it vanish. He vanished the smell and cleaned his hands. “You okay?” 

“I don’t like zombies,” he said as they headed back to the reserved table. Several audience members were looking at him expectantly, but Harry was no longer in the spotlight. Instead, some other bloke was taking the stage, but Harry drowned him out. 

“Are you afraid of them?” 

Willie’s eyes flickered to Harry and back down at the table as he sat. “No. Yes. Please don’t tell the master.” 

Harry blinked. “Why would it matter?” 

“You’re his human servant. When we speak to you, he tells us we’re speaking to him.” 

He supposed in a way that’s true, but Jean-Claude was a fair man. Probably a bit more brutal these days, but he had to be to keep things running to get rid of Nikolaos’ reign. He didn’t think Willie would do anything intentionally, but the fear was palpable. Harry could use this to his advantage. “Just don’t sign anymore on for zombie baiting. You got it?” he asked severely. 

Willie bobbed his head. “Y-yes! Of course!” 

By now a vicious looking vampire was on stage, and it was obvious after a few moments that the vampire wasn’t as funny as the crowd thought he was, but he had them bespelled to laugh to believe it was funny. 

Oh, well, Harry thought. It was better than zombie baiting, and he hardly felt bad for these morons after they’d laughed at the expense of another creature. He didn’t care if it was dead or not. It was wrong and tasteless.  _ Disgusting _ . He was going to have words with Jean-Claude. 

Willie came back with a fancy glass of well-aged Luxardo wine that had the best fat blooming cherries swimming around tastefully in it. “Cheers.” Willie didn’t seem to know how to take him as he sipped at the wine. “Don’t worry, Willie I am not angry at you. I will be having words with Jean though.” 

“... Erm.” 

“You won’t be apart of it.” he winked, and Willie breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you!” As he wandered off, Harry couldn’t help but be curious as to what was taking Jean-Claude so long. He was only ever prompt when Harry arrived. 

He felt him arrive before he saw him, one second he was half listening to the absurd jokes, and the next a tingle rippled across his skin, and a perfect palm glided up his back causing him to tilt his head to see Jean-Claude looking positively delicious staring down at him. 

He was aware that some of the laughter had dimmed when they noticed Jean-Claude, particularly the women. He exuded a sexuality that could not be bought and could not be borrowed. It was all Jean-Claude. 

And to think he’d slept with this man. He had the perfect body on top of him, encased between his legs. His mouth on every part of him. He was already reacting.  _ Dammit! Bloody Hell _ . It only hit him in that second as the vampire brushed a kiss from his temple to his jaw causing his blood to start boiling as he sank down elegantly. 

“Mon Amour. I do apologize for your wait.” 

Harry was trying to hold onto the small thread of irritation he’d had over the zombie, but it was unraveling. “Promise me something.” 

“Hm? What can I promise?” 

“No more zombies!” Harry pointed at his nose. 

Jean-Claude smiled slowly. “I do apologize. If I had been thinking properly I would have canceled after what I witnessed last night.” 

“No more, bespell the crowd all you want, but no more zombies! Or next time I’ll let that comedian get eaten,” he said batting his own eyes causing Jean-Claude to chuckle and lean closer. “That kind of reputation won’t do well for the Laughing Corpse.” 

“You are brutal, mon Amour.” 

“Your fault.” 

“Perhaps the marks have given you more of me than I expected,” He trailed a finger down Harry’s neck. “Do you still wish to go to the Tenderloin?” 

“Mhmm, I need to now more than ever,” he said tightly to Jean-Claude’s surprise. 

He drew back. “What has happened, mon Amour?” 

“I’ll tell you in the car if we can go now? Unless you’re busy?” 

Jean-Claude admittedly was busy, but he wasn’t about to let Harry traipse off by himself to the Tenderloin. “Allow me to leave a word with Willie.” He brushed a hand across Harry’s shoulder affectionately before floating away leaving him to finish his cherry drink, which was really delicious. 

He was only just getting up when Jean-Claude returned to his side, and they walked with his hand gently touching the small of Harry’s back to the door passing by the bouncer who was about to open his mouth and say something only for Jean-Claude to give him a crystal stare that had him drawing back, and thinking better of it. 

“What did you do to my bouncer and ticket vendor, mon Amour?” he asked as the lady at the booth gasped when she saw them walk out together. Many women and a few men were eyeing Jean-Claude like candy. So, it was the usual night. 

“I was in a mood,” said Harry sheepishly. “Do I need to apologize?” 

“Non, you are my human servant. It is best they get to realize that you belong to me. I have tried to let it spread, but some do not take me seriously. I must have hid my strength far too well.” 

“I’m really sorry. Do I need to be around more? I can you know!” 

Jean-Claude smiled in that breathtaking way. “You being here now is more than enough.” 

“If you want me for something you’re going to have to tell me. I’m no mind reader.”

Sometimes, he didn’t understand Jean-Claude. As they reached his car, Harry slid into the driver’s seat. Jean-Claude was already in the passenger. He’d moved as fast as lightning, and Harry hadn’t seen him. 

As they drove into the night, Harry noticed that Jean-Claude was as still as death. He started to fear that he had done something. He wasn’t quite sure what. “Jean?” 

“Hm?” He couldn’t see Jean-Claude’s eyes for the darkness. It was like it swallowed him whole. 

Harry touched him gently. “What’s going on?” 

“Just having a night.” 

“If you need me by your side, please tell me.” 

Jean-Claude twitched. “I wish I could blame you.” Harry blinked at this, they stopped at a redlight that glowed down on Jean-Claude, making him look more ferocious and lovely than ever before. “I wish I could blame it on your lack of cooperation, but it is entirely my fault. I do not wish for you to see what I have to do. What I have to become to get order in my community. A Master of the City is not just a title. How do I let you see me that way? You are so pure.” 

Harry snorted. “Hardly! Come on, Jean. I’m not going to break.” 

“Aren’t you?” Jean-Claude brushed a hand along Harry’s neck, and the wizard shivered when the vampire began to kiss him. He tilted to allow access, his eyes on the road, and waiting for the light. 

“No. If you need me by your side. You need to tell me. You marked me, unless you regret that?” 

“Non, I do not. But, I never expected to have such a lovely human on the inside and outside. I have never had the ardeur so satisfied in all my centuries.” 

Harry tried not to flush as his heart-rate began to escalate. He put his foot on the gas when the light turned green. “Like I told my unexpected friend who popped in out of nowhere, I am not the Harry Potter that I used to be. I am not the Golden Boy of Tempered Light.” He rolled his eyes. “Merlin, I hated that moniker almost worse than the Boy Who Lived. Who calls people that? Who comes up with such stupid nicknames?” He started asking for no reason. “ _ Boy Who Lived, Golden Boy of Gryffindor. Dumbledore’s Boy Through and Through _ . Dumbledore can go sit on a pointy hat if he wasn’t already dead!” 

Jean-Claude burst out into laughter. “Are you sure you do not want to be part of my comedy club, mon Amour? You’d delight them!” 

“Five seconds was enough for me. Never again, thank you!” 

Jean-Claude tilted his head. “You were on my stage? I missed it? I am going to have words with Willie.” 

“Please don’t. He’s terrified of you enough as it is.” 

Jean-Claude caressed Harry’s arm that was holding the wheel at the bottom. “He should be. I have to use fear to get them in line. I don’t want you to see that side of me.”

“I’m not going to turn tail and run. I do have a Edward on my back you know.” 

Jean-Claude smirked. “Yes, you do, I suppose you are not wrong about that. How is the shadow assassin?” 

“Somehow he heard about Salvador, but he’s away right now. No idea where. I never dare to ask. It’s best to leave it.” 

The Tenderloin was a district that had at one time been on the Riverfront, but lately it has moved up-town. It is known as the more human red-light district. Sex everywhere and anywhere you want it. Harry hadn’t known any of this until he looked it up. Harry found a parking spot, and made a noise as he wriggled his car into place without hitting another, and he cut the engine as the brilliant lights flooded over Jean-Claude, illuminating him. 

Harry tossed his belt, and he leaned and pressed a kiss to Jean-Claude’s cheek. His lashes fluttered. “Have you eaten more than me?” He asked inspecting the vampire with concern. 

“Oui.” Jean-Claude laid back in the seat and stared at Harry. “You truly wish to join me?” 

“Yes!” Harry insisted. “I think you and I may have made a bit of a blunder, Jean-Claude.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Neither of us have seen each other’s dark sides. Not much anyway. You’ve only showed me the classic you, the one who is not always on alert or thinking about how to keep things at bay. I’ve only ever seen the Jean-Claude with me. And you have only ever seen my good sides, the kind Harry Potter who would even protect zombies. You haven’t really seen me for who I am. Or what I can do.” 

Jean-Claude never took his eyes away from Harry. “Then tell me.” 

“Let’s take my newest pets for example. Did you know I have two mice?” 

“Do you? I don’t remember mice.” 

“Oh, well, they were once human,” Harry told him causing Jean-Claude to blink at him. “But then they tried to threaten me and a friend. So I threatened them with head-sized spiders, a few broken bones, and have decided to let them live their lives as a mouse in a cage, trapped until I decide they can leave and probably without a memory in their heads.” 

“Truly?” Jean-Claude blinked. 

“Yes, truly. You haven’t seen my unscripted torture chamber. Fourth floor, simple room, spiders larger than your head who love to crawl on things, and make a web! Let’s go!” Harry plucked the photograph he’d kept out and Jean-Claude was just staring at the seat that was now empty. 

Jean-Claude moved like fog sweeping Harry into his arms before they made it into the neon light, and the vampire kissed him hard and passionate until both their blood was boiling. 

“No more treating me like a China doll,” Harry breathed against him. 

Jean-Claude smiled beautifully. “Non, no China doll. Just a mon Amour.” 

As Harry was sat back down, he adjusted Jean-Claude’s white frothy lace. “Come on, before someone starts soliciting you.” 

Oh boy, not even a few steps into the light did they receive a lot of attention. Prostitutes up and down the strip. Some wanted to eat Harry alive, most wanted to have Jean-Claude eat them alive. Some even offering themselves for free. 

A couple of men tried to touch Harry only for Jean-Claude to snap his fingers to their wrists, and send them skittering backwards like rats. 

_ Sorry, Rafael, not your rats _ , Harry thought. 

Harry showed Jean-Claude the picture of the woman he was looking for. “It does not look like any of them,” he said as they passed a strip-club with XXX emblazoned in pink, and signs of barely dressed women holding onto their breasts, and shows of all kinds. 

Harry thought Jean-Claude’s club was much more tasteful. 

Jean-Claude ended up accidentally mind-wiping several prostitutes that came at them. Harry had tried to ask about Wanda, but it was no use, and the woman was like some sort of tiger coming at them. Harry didn’t quite know what to do. 

“Be still,” Jean-Claude hissed, and Harry observed the small snarl as the woman clasped her hands to her side. He circled her, one finger gliding down her back, and then he nodded to Harry, and gracefully lead him away. 

Harry looked back at the woman staring at the vacantly. “You wiped her mind?” 

“Mhmm. I didn’t mean to,” said Jean-Claude. “It is you that caused me to. My powers are very strong right here beside you. I did not realize the third mark would be so startling. I apologize.” 

“You don’t have to apologize. I’d have done the same thing. Least you don’t have to speak a spell. It was brilliant!” 

They were approached by two muscled men in leather chaps that had nothing on the backside. One reached for Harry.

“Please do not touch him. He is mien,” Jean-Claude said with a purr causing both to take a step back. “Enjoy your night.” Harry’s cheeks were a ruby red making Jean-Claude chuckle. “Does it shock you mon Amour?” 

“Sort of, I’ve never been propositioned before,” he said trying not to look at the ground. “Probably your glow coming off on me or something. I’m nothing to look at.” 

“You do test me, do you not?” said Jean-Claude tightly. “You believe you are unworthy to be desired. You are entirely wrong.” 

“I know I clean up nice sometimes, but…” He just didn’t understand it.

Jean-Claude stopped him in the middle of the path, and he sent a pulse of his power out to make others veer around them. “I may have the looks outside, but I am hardly anything more than a monster inside of me. You on the other hand have both the outside and inside of perfection. I should know. Over six hundred years, mon  _ belle _ ,” he drawled silkily making Harry stare up at him. “I could have you over and over again, and never wish for another if it wasn’t for something more powerful than I can handle.” 

“The Ardeur?” 

“Hm. It affects people all around me, particularly those who are weak willed. You are the only one who it has not personally affected. You basked in it last night, but you were not overwhelmed. You controlled it with your natural dark magic. A Necromancer is more than a death call. It calls all souls to them. A gravitational pull you might say.” 

Harry hardly understood what his lovely vampire lover was saying. “It’s so weird, I can’t really call you a boyfriend. You’re not a boy.” Jean-Claude’s lips twitched, and he threw his head back to laugh richly making several women and men stumble nearby when they heard it. 

“Did you not hear me?” 

“Oh, I heard you. But I don’t get it, so I’m just going along with it. Come on, I want to find this woman.” 

“My lovely servant, so enchanting.” Jean-Claude swept his hand all across Harry’s back causing him to shiver. 

After Harry spoke to what had to be a teenager. He handed him a fifty dollar bill and the kid pointed out  _ The Grey Cat _ where Wanda spent her nights. Harry thanked him as they set off in that direction. 

How did he talk to a prostitute? How did he approach her? As they made their way across the busy street to the glowing fuschia neon light of the Grey Cat, Harry stopped suddenly, and it was amazing how Jean-Claude could stop too without the whiplash. As if he knew Harry was stopping. He saw her right then, and there was no mistaking who she was. 

Wanda was a small woman sitting in one of those sporty wheelchairs that were used for racing. She wore workout gloves, and the muscles in her arms moved under her tanned skin as she pushed herself along. She had flowing brown hair that fell in gentle waves around a pretty face, and the makeup was the most tasteful he’d seen yet. She wore a shiny metallic blue shirt, and an ankle-length skirt with at least two layers of different colors finished with a pair of stylish black boots to hide her legs. 

She was moving toward them, and Jean-Claude seemed to realize who she was, and even he gave a human blink. “She is a prostitute?” 

“Yes.” 

“In a wheelchair?” 

Harry nodded slowly. 

“Oh my.” It wasn’t every day that Jean-Claude was surprised, and he was pleased to see that there was no tasteless line that came after. But, then again this was Jean-Claude. He didn’t do tasteless. 

She stopped her chair expertly in front of them, and craned her neck to look at them. “Hello,” she said sweetly. 

“Hi!” What was he to do now? He looked at Jean-Claude who was gently gazing at her as though trying to come off harmless. Point for him. 

“I was hoping I could talk to you. You’re Wanda right?” 

“Yes, how did you hear of me?” she asked sweetly. 

“Word of mouth. I was wondering if we could talk?” 

Her smile grew wider. “Sure, you got a room?” 

Harry blinked and shook his head. “No ma’am. I don’t.” But she was waiting for him to say something more. Blimey, how did people do this? It just seemed wrong! He could feel Jean-Claude at his side, a hand on the small of his back as if encouraging him. No help from his bodyguard, he supposed. “We just want to talk for an hour or two. I can pay whatever it is you charge.” 

She never lost her smile, it was as though she took pride in what she was doing as she told him the going rate. Harry didn’t know what was expensive or not, but the look on Jean-Claude’s face told him that it was quite steep. 

“Okay.” 

Somehow or another they ended up back at his Lexus. It was too easy. How could she willingly go with two men? Harry thought trying not to sound stereotyping, but this can’t be safe. He looked at Jean-Claude again who had not said a word. 

“It is unusual I get two men as clients, especially such pretty ones,” she said leaning on the front seat with her arms and looking from one to the other. “May I have your names?” 

“Jean-Claude,” said Jean-Claude generously. 

“James,” said Harry, and he was happy that Jean-Claude didn’t blink or say anything different. 

“James and Jean-Claude,” she said smiling.

She settled back comfortably, and Harry drove back to his house. He hadn’t wanted to give her his actual name because of her ex-lover. Not yet. 

“You have a large house,” commented Wanda as he pulled into the light graveled drive. He really needed to get more gravel onto it as he parked in front of the steps. 

Jean-Claude carried her as Harry took her wheelchair. It was heavy, but he’d once upon a time packed Dudley on his back to get him home. He could handle a wheelchair. 

“Such a beautiful home!” 

“Thank you,” said Harry kindly, and they ended up in the den off of the entry. Her eyes looking all around as Jean-Claude sat her in a comfortable armchair. Harry placed her chair nearby. It didn’t look like Hermione was around at all or she’d gone to bed. He wouldn’t be surprised. Harry asked her if she wished for a drink, and she wanted red-wine. He had that. 

“Shall I get it, mon Amour?” said Jean-Claude squeezing Harry’s shoulder. 

“Please.” 

He disappeared leaving the two of them alone. “You look good together,” she acknowledged. “Are you trying new things?” 

Harry didn’t know how to answer that as he sank down on the coffee table nearest her. She almost jumped when Jean-Claude had returned. Her eyes went wide she got her first good look at him. “You’re a vampire!” 

“Oui, madam.” he moved to stand behind Harry, tall, pale, and handsome as ever. 

She frowned. “I’m not coffin-bait,” she said tightly. 

Harry blinked. “Sorry, but what is coffin-bait?” 

“A whore that does vampires.” 

Jean-Claude didn’t look the least bit offended, and Harry shook his head. “No, ma’am. He won’t touch you.” She looked at him carefully. “Do you need me to taste that first? So you know nothing is in it?” 

“No, I believe you. For some reason.” She sipped it. “Wow, this is good.” She sat it aside. “How do you want me? Not you!” she pointed to the vampire. “But you are fine?” she beamed. 

Harry flushed, and Jean-Claude chuckled richly. “You hush!” Harry raised his hand and smacked the vampire on the chest. 

“Are you embarrassed of a whore?” she asked not in the least bit phased. 

“No ma’am, I’m embarrassed because he knows that I’m close to a virgin.” That shocked her. 

“Non, no longer, mon Amour. I made sure of that,” he purred. 

“You’re not helping anything, Jean!”

Wanda was looking from one to the other. “So, what is going on then?” 

Harry puffed out a breath and dropped his head to look at her again. “I was serious, I only wanted to talk. I’ll pay full price, even double if you need it.” 

“... I don’t understand? Do you have pity for me?” she asked narrowing her pretty eyes. 

“No. But I know we’re taking a lot of your time.” 

“It’s your money,” said Wanda. “You can do whatever you want.” 

“I’m sorry if I am bringing up something painful, but I want to talk about Harold Gaynor.” Her eyes went wide, her smile faded, and a look of wariness spread across her.

“I don’t know the name.” 

Harry sighed, and leaned forward to capture her eyes with his. “Wanda. My name is Harry Potter. I didn’t say my real first name because I knew it might spook you. James is my middle name. It’s very important. I’m sorry if it makes you nervous.” 

She drew back. “I’ll do you. I’ll let the vamp watch, and I’ll talk dirty to you. I’ll do anything you want, but I do not know anybody named Gaynor.” 

“I’m not a reporter, and I’m not a cop. He will never know you talked to me unless you tell him.” 

“I can’t…” she said with a shake of her head. “I cannot. He will kill me.” 

“He won’t. He won’t touch you. I need to know more about him, Wanda. You’re the only one who can tell me anything.” 

“Do you need help, mon Amour?” Wanda flinched at this, fear crawling all over her face. 

“No, not this time. She can do it. He’s threatening my life, and I need to know as much about him as I can. He’s hurting people, Wanda.” 

She began to sob into her hands, and Harry sighed as he conjured some tissues and handed them to her. She hadn’t noticed his magic. She took them, and Harry waited for her to stop crying. 

“Okay…” She shuddered. “I know… I know Harold.” She sniffed, her eyes big and puffy. 

“Tell me about him,” Harry requested trying with all his might to use a Dumbledore voice. 

She stared at him wildly. “Has he sent Bruno or Tommy after you yet?” 

“Tommy stopped by. Bruno tried to sick two men on me.” 

“What did you do about it?” she asked, and Harry pointed over his shoulder at the cage with the colored wheels and tunnels in them. 

“You see them?” 

She looked and so did Jean-Claude, and he heard the vampire chuckle richly behind him. “What about your mice?” 

“That’s the two men who tried to come after me. Bruno hired them. Rest assured, Bruno and Tommy may join them if I see them again.” 

Her eyes rounded as she stared at the mice in the cage. “W-what?” 

“I’m a wizard. Not your run of the mill witch. I am a real wizard. They said that Bruno would kill them, so I figured that was the best idea. I am keeping them safe after all.” 

“Are you going to turn me into something?” she asked fearfully. 

“No ma’am. I am not. You didn’t come after me with a gun. Please tell me what I need to know.” 

“What did you do to make Harold mad?” She couldn’t help but ask. 

Harry sighed. “I refused to do something for him, and he didn’t like it.”

Harry could feel Jean-Claude manipulating the air in the room so very subtly, and Wanda began to relax. Like a sieve, the story spilled out of her as she began to talk. From her dropping out of college to moving in with Harold, and she’d loved it at first. She could feel nothing in her legs, and Harold loved that. He couldn’t get enough of her, and then he wanted to cut her up. 

Then there was Cicely. She was just as violent. He never would have guessed that, Harry thought in shock. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She was sexually tortured. She told him all about his sexual deviance. Harry didn’t know what to think of any of this. It was new to him. Jean-Claude was as still as death, but his power worked wonders. Once it got to personal secrets that she was spilling with the help of Jean-Claude’s manipulation, Harry perked up and started paying closer attention. 

“He talked about his family a lot.” 

“What about his family?” Harry asked, hoping he’d get something. 

“He was illegitimate. He was obsessed with his real father’s family. They were rich, old money. His mother was a hooker turned mistress. When she got pregnant, they threw her out.” 

"What family?" Harry asked for clarification. 

She shook her head. "He never said. I think he thought I'd blackmail them or go to them with his dirty little secrets. He desperately wants them to regret not welcoming him into the family. I think he only made his money so he could be as rich as they were."

"If he never gave you a name, how do you know he wasn't lying?"

"You wouldn't ask if you could hear him. His voice was so intense. He _ hates _ them. And he wants his birthright. Their money is his birthright."

"How does he plan to get their money?" 

"Just before I left him, Harold had found where some of his ancestors were buried. He talked about treasure. Buried treasure, can you believe it?"

"In the graves?"

She shook her head and took a drink of the red-wine. "No, his father's people got their first fortune from being river pirates. They sailed the Mississippi and robbed people. Gaynor was proud and angry about it. He said that the whole bunch of them were descended from thieves and whores. Where did they get off being so high and mighty to him?" She was watching his face as she spoke the last. Maybe she saw the beginnings of an idea.

"How would knowing the graves of his ancestors help him get their treasure?" Harry had to know more. His heart was pounding enough that he could feel Jean-Claude like a still stone statue in the middle of the pounding rhythm. 

"He said he'd find some voodoo priest to raise them. He'd force them to give him their treasure that had been lost for centuries."

Harry leaned back feeling satisfied. Peter Burke or Dominga Salvador or both. He smiled before he could swallow it down. He had exactly what he needed. Jean-Claude’s palm landed on his shoulder as though he too could feel Harry’s satisfaction through the marks. 

"What?” she asked leaning forward to look at him. “Did that really help?"

"Did he ever mention any names of voodoo priests?"

Wanda shook her head. "No, no names. He was always careful about names. There's a look on your face. How could what I have told you just now help you?"

"I’d rather you not be in trouble for knowing too much.” 

She stared at him for a long time but finally nodded. "I guess so.” 

“Do you wish for me to call you a cabbie or take you somewhere?” he asked her gently. 

She sniffed, and nodded. “Yeah. I’d like a taxi if you don’t mind.” 

Harry stood right, and looked at Jean-Claude. His mind whispered. “ _ Wipe her memory. _ ” Somehow, Jean-Claude understood. 

He headed into the hall to call for a cab aware of Hermione leaning against the wall having heard everything. She was wearing a faded nightgown, her hair as wild as always. He placed his finger to his lips to keep her silenced. Once that was finished, he turned to Hermione. 

“Is she alright?” the woman couldn’t help but ask. 

“She will be,” said Harry. “Did you hear everything?” 

Hermione was wide-eyed. “Yeah, I heard! You need to call the police.” 

He shook his head. “I can’t do that. I don’t have evidence.” 

“What about her?” 

Harry sighed sadly and bowed his head. “You and I know she’s truthful, but a multi-millionaire’s lawyer will destroy her and all the dignity she has left because of her choice of career. She will be a laughing stock. A joke, and she will have nothing left.” 

Hermione’s eyes pricked with tears as she rubbed her arms as though she were cold. “How horrible.” She flinched when Jean-Claude was suddenly there behind Harry. 

“I have done what you asked. She does not remember anything more than having had a pleasant chat with us, mon Amour. Bonjour, young lady.” 

Her mouth opened and then shut. Her face immediately changed to a bright color red. Harry laughed. “Hermione, this is Jean-Claude. Jean-Claude, this is Hermione Granger.” 

He swept around with his hand out in offering. She put hers in it. “Oh… hello! It’s nice to meet you.” She blinked into his eyes, and then tilted her head as she became locked. Harry could see her throat moving. Her eyes glazing as he continued to stare into her. 

Harry made an insufferable sound. “Please don’t do that!” He whacked Jean-Claude causing Hermione to flinch and come out of her trance. “You don’t roll my friends!” 

“What was that?” she breathed.

“Pardon, mon Amour. I could not help myself. She is easily rolled. You might want to teach her before she gets into the wrong clutches. I was curious since I could not roll your other friend if it extended to all others like yourself. She is a wizard correct?” 

“She is the  _ proper _ form of a witch,” Harry explained. “Hermione. You need to brush up on your Occlumency.” 

She frowned. “Did you just try to mesmerize me? You do that again and I’ll hex you!” she warned lethally with her wand in his face suddenly. 

“Like a kitty cat,” Jean-Claude grinned unabashed by her wand. 

Harry groaned as Hermione glowered at him. “Please, don’t get her started. You think I have a temper, she’s worse! She’s the one who came up with the mouse idea!” Jean-Claude couldn’t help but laugh as he saw the childhood friendliness between them. 

Hermione had a pure heart much like Harry. Draco’s hadn’t been so pure, but it was also not tainted. Harry’s friends were intriguing. 

“You started it. It just seemed logical.” She tucked her wand away. “Do I need to go in there? You know, being a woman. It might be better.” 

“She does not remember us,” said Jean-Claude. “She’s fast asleep. Whatever you tell her the moment she wakes will be all she remembers of the night.” 

Harry told her where they went and what they set out to do. She nodded. “I’ll tell her I invited her back to ask about-” she paused for a moment. “What do I ask about?” Her face flamed, and Jean-Claude’s lip twitched. 

“Erm. Asked her how to talk dirty. She taught you a few tricks, and you paid her five hundred bucks for it.” It seemed the most appropriate. 

“Blimey!” Hermione squeaked with a dance of her feet. “Are you serious? Five hundred bucks?” 

“Supply and demand,” Jean-Claude said casually as though he were talking about the weather. 

“She knows nothing about Gaynor, and the least she knows the better,” Harry told Hermione. 

“How about I add a memory that she gets the idea to go back to college?” suggested Hermione. 

Harry was surprised that Hermione would even think of manipulating an innocent woman. But, Harry thought he could understand. She was kind of pitiful, and she didn’t deserve to have the life she had because Gaynor ripped all her self-confidence. “It couldn’t hurt. An idea that she might take seriously.” 

Harry and Jean-Claude remained out of the way, hidden within the shadows as Hermione not only awoke Wanda, but filled her blank mind with false memories of teaching Hermione how to be more sexual in her voice. Hermione continued to stay tomato red in the face as she wheeled the woman to the door who continued to chatter emphatically about what to say. 

Harry was snickering quietly, and Jean-Claude folded his arms. “Ah mon Amour. How is it you have the most gifted people around you? You have hearts that I have never truly understood, not since I lost mine.” 

“You didn’t lose yours, Jean. It just got buried for a while. I’ve seen your soul, Jean. It’s not as marred as you think.” 

“You think so?” 

“I know so,” said Harry sharply. “I also know that she gave me a huge piece of evidence. I need one more to string it together, and then I will act. I have a plan already forming in my head. I will end this rubbish.” 

“What do you plan, mon Amour?” 

“You’ll see. Both of them are going to pay for what they’ve done to innocent people. You’ll see the dark side of me yet, Jean-Claude.” 

Jean-Claude gripped the back of Harry’s wild hair and tugged it back and kissed him passionately. Harry was almost swept up by the spell of his desire curling around him like a fur blanket. 

Hermione let out an insufferable noise as she saw them. Her face was still flaming, and her eyes rounded as she watched Jean-Claude manhandle her childhood best friend. By Merlin, he’s going to suck out Harry’s tongue at this rate! 

Blimey. If this was Harry’s standards, it was no wonder he had no one in the wizarding world. She was going to bed, and she had a feeling that neither of them cared. But, really? Talking about sticking a tongue  _ there _ ? Why would you do that? Hermione didn’t get it as she stomped up the staircase. 

“Sorry Hermione!” Harry called back from downstairs. 

“Oh shut up you two!” 

“What did I say?” asked the seductive voice. 

“It’s not what you say, but what you think, Jean.” 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Crime Scene at the beginning.

# Chapter Thirteen

_“Hey Edward, it’s Harry. Got something that I think you’re going to love,”_ said Harry over the cordless phone into the man’s answering machine. _“You don’t want to miss it, and I can’t think of anyone better. Multiples. Cheers!”_

oOo

It was the worst yet. Harry watched as the white ceiling fan revolved at a steady speed, the blinds were partially open causing lines of brilliant August sun to illuminate and highlight the blood soaked room. 

It smelled of fresh death, not rot yet. Just bodily fluids and blood with some meat left over that didn’t make it into the stomach of whatever came at it. 

It was frenzying, and the blood so fresh that there is no way this thing couldn’t have been caught in the blazing heat of the sun. 

Newscasters and reporters were out hot and heavy, not a single car could get through the street of this suburbia neighborhood. Cops and detectives and even forensics were outside throwing up in the large plastic rubbish bins on the end of everyone’s drive. 

Single-one story homes in the middle of America’s suburbia had never seen or heard anything so horrible happening. It reminded him of the Dursleys through and through. All the houses were alike with only the shade of cream in difference. 

All the sheets looked flatter than they should be, soaking like red-wine. 

“It’s tailspinning,” said Harry, who had his currently clean gloved hands on his hips. He’d shrugged into a pair of tailored black slacks, and a black and white vertical striped button down that hugged his frame. His hair was currently being tamed by the Dior glasses he had yet to return to Jean-Claude. If he thought the last house’s carpet was bad, that was nothing to the blood that swished and flicked around on top of the carpet that was too full. Like spilling over too full. He had left Jean-Claude asleep in his bed when he received the call that morning. He’d also left a note and a port-key for the vampire if he wished to get back to the Circus. 

Hermione had still been asleep when he left, and he was thankful because she would have wanted to come and see what was going on. He didn’t want her to see this. She may have nerves of steel, but this was testing even him to his compartmentalizing limits. 

“Wait until you see what’s under the sheets,” For the first time ever, Dolph made him jump, and that was not something that happened often considering how big and obvious he was. Harry had been trying to space out. Not a single patch of color remained on his face. 

“Going out on a limb here that it won’t be much,” said Harry through his clean teeth. He was trying not to open his mouth, and already he could taste the tang whistling through. 

Dolph stood in the doorway, and Harry saw the pinched lines around his eyes, and the pallid face with a five o’ clock shadow grazing the edges of his jaw. This was one that he would never forget in his long career. None of them would.

Dolph leaned out of the doorway into the hall. “We need some help in here lifting the sheets! After Potter sees the remains we can go home!” It took everyone getting their own barings, and Dolph calling a few by name, to get anyone in the room with them. That never happened. “Zerbrowski, Perry, Merlioni, get your butts in here!” 

Zerbrowski was the first to enter, the purple shadows under his eyes prominent. “Hi ya, Harry.” 

“Zerbrowski, you look like you’ve seen better days.” 

He laughed. “Looking a little flashy these days, Harry. I’m liking this new you.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Word has it you’ve been playing at night a lot these days.” 

“When am I not?” He wouldn’t be surprised if one of them had seen that bloody gossip rag. He hoped they were just too damn tired at the checkouts to notice them. 

Detective Perry was the second to arrive. “Harry. Good to see you again.” 

Harry smiled weakly. “You too, Detective Perry. Clive,” he said remembering the permission to call him by name. 

“Can we get on with this?” Merlioni said shrugging into the room. He was the second tallest with graying hair at the temples, and always seemed to have an issue with Harry. His size and youthful features for some reason got on the man’s nerves. “Or are you skipping classes like a bad little boy?” 

Dolph scowled. “You take the first sheet then, Merlioni, since you’re so cheerful today.” 

“Ready for this kiddo?” he asked smirking. 

“I’d rather be kiddo than a stuck up arse. Get to it!” 

“Showtime.” He raised the sheet and it stuck in a wet swatch that pulled one wet inch at a time. 

Zerbrowski quickly snagged the other side before Dolph could demand it, and the wet motion had Perry trying to stay on his feet. It made it even worse with the sunlight streaming through making it brighter and more fiery than it really was. 

Blood was dripping from the edges of the sheet where the men held it. A wet heavy set of droplets, like a dripping sink that needed fixing. 

Harry knew that he would be throwing away everything he wore away that day except the boots as he was forced to kneel in front of the pile of lumps. He didn’t flinch as the blood soaked through the knee. 

The biggest lump was wet and smooth, about five inches long. It was pink and healthy-looking.

Intestine. Harry thought. Always a meaty and stringy part of the human body. It was hard to chew. Not that Harry had experience eating another human, but the intestine of a human couldn’t be that different from that of a cow, pig, or other animal to end up on the dinner plate. A smaller lump lay just beside it. It was longer, and Harry had no clue what it was. 

Harry was going to guess that the zombie that had attacked, must have a memory of sorts. Must know what and who it originally was, and tried to control itself. How else would it have tried to keep the boy alive only to kill it? And then a day or so later go on a frenzy.

He could hear Merlioni and Zerbrowski taking bets on who would throw up first. Harry didn’t get in on it because Merlioni knew he’d lose. Harry had a way of closing off entirely, and he’d never been sick at a crime scene. Although, this could be considered close. 

Dolph didn’t say anything as the two were shaking on it. He knew that to get through the insanity of madness in scenes like this some crass humor had to be used. It was a way of compartmentalizing what they were seeing. 

They didn’t have a Snape and Edward to teach them to close off. Merlioni had cursed when his white shirt was splattered as they put the sheet back down. Harry stood and waved his hand. “Let’s get to the next.” 

Harry was almost certain now that there was a chance that this zombie might be a wayward one belonging to Peter Burke who was now dead. It might be a test or an ancestor of Gaynor, and yet how Dominga Salvador fit into this, he wasn’t one hundred percent. Peter Burke wasn’t a good animator, but he was also vaudun. If she was his Priestess, maybe she encouraged him. Maybe there was something that could link her to Peter. Also, Wanda had said _Priest_ , not Priestess. It might seem like a small slip or casual on her part, but Harry had taken it for what it was. Gaynor hired a _man_. How else would he have known about Harry? Harry was good, he was one of the best, but why would Gaynor even think that he could be persuaded? Why not try John Burke who might actually do it; unless Burke would know that Peter Burke had been involved?

Whatever it was, he knew they were all involved. He would get his chance soon, John had called him not a moment after Dolph. Coincidence? 

Harry didn’t do coincidences. 

It only got worse, Zerbrowski and Merlioni ended up tossing their breakfasts in the nearby bathroom as Harry scanned the mother, what was left of her, and the fact that there were more children involved. 

A little girl and an infant this time. A bloody doll under the bed, and a hand. So small. Harry took in a very slow breath, his emerald eyes closing as he brought out the small hand, cradling it causing Perry to let out a noise. So the smaller lumps were an infant child? Merlin, above all. He was done with this, and whether that Salvador woman was involved or not, he was going to end it all. It was Gaynor’s fault, and Harry was going to make him pay. 

“Mother was breast-feeding. She hears a loud noise, the husband goes to check. Noise wakes the little girl, she comes out of her room to see what’s the matter. Husband sees the monster, grabs child, runs for the bedroom. The zombies takes them here. Kills them all, here.” 

“Looks like you’d have won the bet,” said Perry looking nearly white, which was impressive considering he was a black man. 

“I didn’t bet,” said Harry coolly. “And no one wins until this is over.” He stomped out of the room, passing by the gaunt Merlioni. 

He found Zerbrowski hovered over the toilet. Harry tossed his gloves into a sack nearby, and handed him a washcloth. 

“How do you do it?” Zerbrowski growled. 

“I turn it to fury and anger. It’s much easier to deal with,” said Harry leaning on the sink. His shirt was destroyed, no fixing it now. 

Dolph appeared in the doorway. “Harry, I need something. Any unusual observations?”

“Yes, but you’re not going to like it because the one behind it, isn’t possible to get. I’ve been doing my own research.” 

“Spill it.” 

“Peter Burke.” 

“The dead animator?” 

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, and stared at the white tile that had ducks on it. Such a normal family, Harry thought. “Peter Burke was a poor excuse for an animator. He was not born to it in his blood, and so he turned to vaudun to make it more powerful. It’s not much of a coincidence that if an animator dies with a zombie risen, it may run rampant. No one to put it back. I believe Peter Burke rose it for someone. He realized what he’d risen, but it all went wrong. Whoever it was killed him, leaving the zombie alone. I think it might be a flesh-eating zombie.” 

“You said it wasn’t.” 

“Most flesh eaters don’t eat an entire person or family. But then I started thinking that maybe eating flesh helps the zombie remember. There are some human tribes in this world who believe that eating flesh grants them great strength, youthful, beauty, and intelligence. Maybe there is some truth in that to flesh-eaters. It’s why it took the boy, refused to eat it, until it lost control. If that zombie was once an animator or a magical person then they would have an extra ability. So we’re pretty much dealing with a _super_ flesh-eating zombie.” He hadn’t wanted to tell Dolph any of this, but the brass was on his arse to close this case, and they had no real suspects. They were just following from scene to scene, chasing the damn thing that slipped away. But if they found the zombie, and link it to Peter then there would be enough to satisfy the top brass, and get them off Dolph’s arse. They’d be looking for Peter’s murderer, but they’d never find her or him. 

“So, you think Peter Burke raised it, got killed, and it was left alone to attack others?” 

Harry nodded. 

“Who killed him?” 

Harry could tell him, but he wasn’t about to. He brought his shoulders up. “I don’t know, Dolph. I’d look into vaudun practitioners and people who have something to gain by raising a corpse. Also...did anyone hear anything this time?” 

“Neighbor heard something around dawn, but he went on to work. Said, he didn’t want to get involved in a domestic dispute.” 

Typical, Harry thought. Suburbia sees, but does not react. Just as they had when he was a child. It was no different. “Had he heard fighting in the house before?” 

“No.” 

“Merlin, if he’d had just called the police,” said Harry leaning forward as if to hold his knees. 

“You think it would have made a difference?” 

Harry shrugged. “Maybe or maybe not. But we might have trapped it.” 

“Spilled milk.” 

Harry shook his head. “Maybe not. The scene is still very fresh. I mean, the blood hasn’t had time to dry in the spots of sun that streams in. If the zombie killed them, and then took the time to eat four people. That isn’t quick. At dawn the thing was still killing them.” 

“What’s your point?” asked Zerbrowski standing up straight. Harry handed him the mouthwash from the counter. It might not be theirs, but it was mouthwash, and the man swigged it before spitting into the toilet. 

“Seal the area,” Harry said instantly as he straightened. 

Dolph looked at him. “Explain.” 

“The zombie has to be nearby, within walking distance. It’s hiding, waiting for nightfall.” 

Dolph ran a hand over his partially shaven face. “I thought zombies could go out in daylight.” 

“They can, but they don’t like it. Also, this one seems to have an awareness. An intelligence that most don’t have. He took a boy, Dolph. As if trying not to eat him, and then he couldn’t control it. Once you kill one, what’s another? It’s easier after the first. A zombie won’t typically go out in the day unless ordered to.” 

“Nearest cemetery?” 

“Zombies aren’t ghouls or vampires. It doesn’t need to be coffins or even graves. A zombie will just want to get out of the light.” 

“Where do we look?” 

“Everywhere. Everywhere that is dark and with shelter. Crawlspaces, refrigerators, garages, boots of older model cars. It doesn’t matter. I have an appointment with John Burke. Can you please get me access? I might find something more. Oh, and make sure you have fire on hand. Bullets will just piss it off..” 

oOo

Harry was going to need some extra strength magical mess remover to get the stains out of his shirt when he arrived at the St. Louis Morgue. It was a large building, detached from all the others. Most cities had a morgue in the basement, but St. Louis being as big as it was had a whole building dedicated to housing the dead. 

Harry had been by the morgue plenty of times, sometimes with Manny and other times on his own to stake suspected vampire victims so they wouldn’t rise and feast on the morgue attendants. Harry never liked that job. He was kind of glad it was illegal now, and would be classified as murder. 

Not that Edward cared. Nowadays only a court-order or a will would allow a victim to be staked. Harry thought they should at least make a whole new floor, maybe have a vampire on staff who could deal with such things. 

But, once again, humanity was as fickle as could be. He crossed the lot, using his rucksack to try and block the stains across his shirt. His knees wouldn’t be noticed. 

John Burke was waiting at the door. His eyes were dull, and his mouth set in a grim slash. He would be handsome if he didn’t look so creepy. It was obvious that he was grief stricken, and Harry was now thinking that Burke had nothing to do with the murders at all. 

But, the man would probably know more about voodoo and vaudun than he did. “Hey.” 

“Sorry I didn’t get your message until now,” said John as they headed into the morgue together. 

“How is it going in there?” 

“Bleak.” He did not elaborate, not that Harry expected him to. 

A long wide empty corridor lay before them, and the guard station sat to the side; and behind it was an entire armory, including machine guns in case the dead rose all at one time. Kansas City saw that happening to them, but machine guns wouldn’t take out a fleet of them. Newborn vampires were as strong as a half giant, and Harry should know. 

Harry flashed his ID at the guard. “Hi, Fred, long time.” 

Fred was a white-washed man with stubble on his chin. “Hey Harry, I wish they let you come down here like before. We’ve had three get up this week and go home. Can you believe that?” He looked disgusted. 

Harry didn’t say anything, and instead told him why he was here. Harry and John made their way down the right hand corridor to the third door on the left where Dr. Saville was waiting for him. 

John moved like a shadow, reminding him vaguely of Jean-Claude, but without the beauty. Harry admittedly didn’t like the way he felt. Vaudun had that effect on him. But most people didn’t know what he thought of others. He often tried to keep conflict to a minimum. 

Dr. Saville looked like someone he’d see in his world. She was Greek and French, and looked it. She was a pretty small woman with dark hair and high cheekbones with an olive complexion. He could smell the faint lingering scent of cigarettes as they shook hands. 

“Harry, good to see you again.” 

“You too, Doctor.” 

“Marian please.” Harry saw the stainless steel table where several plastic bags sat resting. 

He pointed. “Marian, are those the personal effects?”

Harry wished that the woman hadn’t been there as they went through the things. First was the clothes, which John didn’t need to see. He hadn’t seen his brother in years. Next was the things found on him, and Harry spotted the gris-gris in an instant. 

Oh no. He thought softly. He saw the color drain from John’s face as Harry lifted it. It wasn’t exactly like Zachary’s had been. It was more professional. It was woven of black and red thread with human teeth worked into the beading. More bones dangled all the way around it. Harry recognized human finger bones. Harry realized that the black thread wasn’t thread. It was hair. A bit of human all over this thing. 

“Someone died to make this charm,” said John tightly. “Jesus, I never expected this.”

“What does this particular gris-gris do?” he asked. 

John’s face stayed calm, but his eyes were roaring and swirling. Marian the Chief Examiner was almost forgotten about. “It enables a less powerful necromancer to raise older dead. To borrow the power of a much greater necromancer.” 

Got it. Harry was trying so hard not to smile. Dominga Salvador. She made this for Peter Burke. He flubbed up. She killed him. Gaynor was out both, and he came to Harry. 

“Explain.” 

John was staring at Harry now. “You’re onto something.” 

“Explain it to me,” he said in a tighter voice. 

“That charm holds some of the power of the most powerful amongst us. Peter paid dearly for it. So he could raise more and older dead. Peter, God, how could you?” 

“How powerful would you need to be to share your power like this?” 

“Very powerful.” 

Harry turned it over a few times. If the one who created it was powerful enough it would leave a trace. It would have too. “It can be traced back being so strong as it is.” 

“You don’t understand-” 

“I do understand, John. I understand perfectly what has happened.” 

“No!” John barked as he stepped away causing Marian to flinch. “You don’t get it. That thing is a piece of someone else’s power. It is one substance to what soul they have left. It must have been a great need or a great greed to do it. Peter could never have afforded it. Never.” 

Unless Gaynor was paying handsomely. 

But, none of that mattered as he turned coldly to stare up at John. “I know more about the soul than you ever could, John Burke. Do not mistake my size or age with what you see with your eyes only. I know exactly the kind of soul it would take to do what has happened here. Do you see my shirt, John?” 

He pulled his rucksack aside to show that he was covered. John nodded. “This shirt came from a crime scene. A crime scene in which an infant and a little girl were eaten by Peter Burke’s zombie, not to mention the rest of the family.” 

“No!” John growled. “He wouldn’t!” 

“He did.” 

As Harry turned the gris-gris over, he saw a shiny musical note glittering in the light. A treble clef, like the vision that the grave had given him of the woman who died. She was sacrificed to make this. 

Dominga Salvador slaughtered her, and made a gris-gris for Peter Burke in hopes of cashing in on the nice amount of money Gaynor was set to offer. 

“Marian, can you check your computer for any woman that died around the same time as Peter Burke? They would have had their throats slit.” 

“Awful accurate, I’ll check my computer.” As she went over, John was almost shaking. 

“What does this mean?” 

“I’ve seen the woman who owned this charm,” said Harry. “I’ve seen the murder.” 

“How?” 

Harry looked up at John Burke. His face was almost blank, but it had a twisted edge to it. “I’m not an Animator. I’m a Necromancer. Death Magic comes naturally to me. It always has, John Burke. I saw her getting her throat slit. Go check with Marian?” 

John stared at Harry hard, and then he turned toward the computer. Harry wasted no time. He duplicated the gris-gris adding his magic into the human bits so that anyone with voodoo knowledge would be able to point it out for what it was, and tucked the original away, careful as he was to trick the cameras that might be in the vicinity. 

They saw the woman from his vision lying on a gurney. She had been there long enough to turn her flesh gray. A clean and perfect slice to the throat in the right way. It was neatly executed as if hundreds before her had been executed. It was a big blade, Marian had said. She showed Harry and John her effects, and he recognized the bracelet that dangled with the charms. 

It would never hold up in a court of law. A jury wouldn’t understand visions, wouldn’t believe it, and Salvador couldn’t be held in any prison. He was not foolish enough to believe it possible. 

“You know.” Harry didn’t move as he continued to stare at the bracelet. “You know who killed my brother,” John Burke followed him as they left Marian behind. “Harry!” he seized Harry’s arm only to let out a shout when a burn on his hand caused him to jerk away. 

His palm turned black, and Harry smirked. “Not a good idea to touch me without permission. My magic is pretty testy that way.” 

“You have to tell me!” 

Harry turned to look at John. He had a flicker of fear as he stared into Harry’s sharp eyes. “Dominga Salvador.” 

John drew in a breath, and his eyes widened. “She is terrifying.” 

“For you maybe. As a lover told me once, she is nothing more than a third-rate Illusionist with cheap parlor tricks. She is nothing to a Master, John. Rest assured, Peter Burke’s murder will be handled.” 

He turned to walk away. John didn’t bother to follow him. Harry would like to warn him that if he got in the middle. Harry would see to it that he too disappeared. He wouldn’t want to, the man was actually innocent. Almost a pity. 

oOo

One would think it would be impossible to be as famished as he felt after all he’d seen that day, but Harry was hungry enough that he could eat a horse. 

_Bad thought_ , but it didn’t stop the rumbling hunger that gnawed at him. He whipped into the gravel driveway, and smirked when he saw Edward’s pickup truck in its usual spot. Harry parked in front, cut the engine, and hauled him and his rucksack out of the car. Seems as if Edward got his message. 

He headed into the fabulously clean entrance hall, and debated on where the man could be when he heard the sound of a click from the kitchen followed by a scrape. Ah, he must be waiting for lunch and, Harry thought, it was perfect timing. Edward would be one happy man. 

Or as happy or close to happy as a sociopath could get. 

He pushed the door to the kitchen, and froze when he saw the scene in front of him. Edward was sitting in Harry’s usual seat, nearest the stove as though he were lounging, with one steel toe boot propped on Harry’s perfectly shiny mahogany table. He was currently cleaning his gun with the barest hint of a smirk. 

He wore his usual tight black crew neck t-shirt that showed off a well toned set of arms, and his hard good ol’ boy face set in a perfect mask. His hair a deep honey blond was swept behind him, and out of the way. Ice blue eyes that could freeze even a volcano exuded a silent deadly power that you only noticed once you were dead. Unless you were Harry or he let you see it. Usually it was the last thing you saw before Death took it’s due. 

But that’s not what had him frozen. It was the fact that his poor childhood friend was currently tied up and gagged. 

“Little Raven sends me mysterious messages, and then when I get here. He is not only missing, but some young lady has taken up residence.” 

“You tied up a witch,” said Harry faintly. 

“Her spatial awareness is terrible,” said Edward with a shrug. “I was going to cut the truth out of her, but at the risk of my ear-drums being blown, I had to gag her. Is she my prize? You shouldn’t have.” 

“I’m so dead.” _Yeah_ , Hermione was glaring at him. 

“Perhaps, but it is not her that is going to kill you.” Edward dropped his boots, and when he stood Harry felt as though he were ten foot tall, and made of cast iron as ice blue eyes pierced him. 

“You know I wouldn’t call for one woman,” said Harry. “You also know damn well that she isn’t an intruder. She is a real witch like me. You were only testing your skills.” 

“I hardly needed to test them,” said Edward, wiping the mahogany table of the dirt as he slid around the table and stared down at Harry. 

Hermione started making noises causing Edward to shoot her a look, and immediately she went stone silent. Her brown eyes flooding with a lot of fear as though Edward was Voldemort. She was the smartest witch he’d ever met after all. Of course she’d see Voldemort. 

“The friends you keep,” he sneered, and Harry didn’t yelp when the man grabbed him by the throat and pushed him hard to the stone wall, and stepped right into his personal space so that ice blue met his emerald green. Harry shivered minutely when Edward’s thumb brushed across the bite mark that hadn’t been there the last time Edward was in town. 

“You’ll like her better than Draco, I promise you.” 

“I would like a flea better than that _boy_.” Harry felt as though Edward was assessing him from the inside out. His stomach fluttered and knotted all with fear and a thrill that was nothing new whenever Edward was near. The sensations never lasted long but when he returned it would always reignite hotter and more ferocious than before. “Something has changed about you. I could feel it with your steps. I almost didn’t hear you.” 

“Let’s see how good your awareness is,” Harry taunted as the grip on his throat got stronger. 

It took no more than two heart-beats. “So that vampire toy has finally had you has he?” he drawled with what was almost a smirk, but not quite. “Or did you let the rat slither inside of you yet? _No_ , it was your vampire toy. He wouldn’t let anyone have you before he did.” He tilted Harry’s head to examine the bites. “He nearly drained you. Did you taste good to him?” 

“He was high as a kite,” Harry supplied causing Edward to snort. He snapped Harry’s neck back toward him almost too hard. If he’d been a normal human, it might have broken. 

Maybe that was Edward’s intentions. “A _cock_ tail,” he drawled. 

“Now, Edward. I didn’t take you for one to make such a joke.” 

Edward finally grinned, and he slowly let go of Harry’s throat. “Who is she?” he asked jabbing his thumb at Hermione. 

“Smartest witch in the magical world, and she’s going to kick my arse. Where is her wand?” 

“You mean this?” He lifted the willow wand, and began to twirl it like a drumstick. “A toy. I know toys. I play with toys. You’ve been packing. I can feel your hidden holster.” He glided his palm down Harry’s stomach to his hip, and then his thigh where the black strapped holster sat. 

Harry shifted his hips closer and pushed into Edward’s chest a bit more boldly so that their noses were almost touching. Harry had to arch his neck so that he could see him. “A baker’s dozen zombies coming at me in my house has swayed me, Edward, to your side.”

“A story I must hear.” 

“Oh, you have a lot to hear. You’ve missed out on a lot, but the fun has only begun. I have the last of the evidence. What’s your rate these days per head?” 

“It’s _steep_ ,” Edward hissed. “But, I’m sure we can make a deal.” 

Harry knew his grin was more wolfish than he had intended. Icy blue eyes didn’t show surprise, but the mouth, the way it curled almost smiling as if he was satisfied by the way his invested interest was turning out, pleased him. 

“First can you save my arse, and we untie her?” Harry pressed closer as if to bite Edward’s ear. “ _Rest is not for her to know_.” 

“I don’t know whether I am in the business to save anything. _But_ , I know an investment when I see it.” Harry yelped when he was pulled off the wall, and the hand that had been on his thigh reached around and cracked his arse _hard_. 

“You bastard!” Harry groaned at the sting that bloomed. Edward smirked as he seized Harry’s hips, pushing their lower bodies together until he felt like they were glued. 

And then as though they were talking about the weather, Edward let him go. He would have fallen forward if he hadn’t had good balance. His bum was still burning, and so were his cheeks as the man fluidly headed back to his seat as though he had never touched Harry in the first place. 

“Going to be good?” Edward asked flatly to Hermione. He had nothing on his face. He leaned forward so he was closer to her. “Nod or shake your head.” He drew back when she gave a jerky nod. Harry sighed as he snapped his fingers, causing not only the ropes to disappear, but the gag flew out of her mouth causing her to take a deep gulping breath. 

“H-Harry!” 

“I’m sorry Hermione. I see you’ve met Edward.” 

And Harry winced when Hermione clobbered him with her small fists with real anger. “Damn you, Edward!” Harry groaned. 

“I need coffee. I hope you plan to cook,” he said without looking at them as he picked his gun up again to clean. “I drove all night for you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, can you let me know if you require tags before NSFW content? Some of the books get quite steamy in the future, and I wanted your take on it that way if you are not into the sexual content I can warn ahead of time and you can skip those bit and still get the rest of the story.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW at the beginning.

Hermione had given him a tongue lashing that buzzed around his skull like a hornet was trapped inside. She then stated that she had something else to do and that he should change his shirt because of the blood; before walking out in a rather heavy stomp to remind everyone she wasn’t happy. As if her tongue lashing hadn’t gotten through to him. Edward hadn’t even flinched, still cleaning his gun. 

“Bastard,” Harry muttered rubbing his ear, and dropping his rucksack. “I hope you don’t cost me a future baby-sitter,” he breathed squeezing behind Edward who smirked. 

“You should silence the door, Little Raven. She is right. You have blood all over you. I can smell it. At least four different ones.” 

“Another family,” he said darkly. “An  _ infant _ this time and a baby girl.” He was aware of Edward gripping the handle of the gun. 

He threw up the strongest silencing ward imaginable, and he told Edward everything as he set out fresh ingredients for lunch. Edward by now had stopped cleaning his gun. 

“How do you want to play this?” 

“I need a fall guy,” said Harry. “I can take care of that, and I’m thinking the one named Antonio will be perfect. I am going to show them a real Necromancer, but I need heads, and as good as I am with magic, I can’t be in two places at once.” 

Edward listened carefully to his well thought out plan and when he was through the man threw back his head and laughed; causing Harry to jump. It wasn’t a warm laugh. It was a hollow cold laugh. “You have earned yourself a fucking point.” 

“Just one?” 

“All in execution, Little Raven.” He stood right then, turned and pressed his chest to Harry’s back. Edward reached around and with little care for what Harry was currently doing, he ripped the bloodied shirt from his body. 

Harry swallowed hard when Edward’s calloused palms raked across his shoulders and down his back. “I don’t wish for blood in my food,” he hissed. Edward yanked Harry by the hair, and jerked his head back to expose his neck where the bites riddled his neck. Harry bit down on the noise that threatened when a finger traced them. “I should see to my payment ahead of schedule if things are going to get messy.” 

Harry nearly dropped the jar in his hands when Edward began to bite his ear. Edward forcefully turned him around, and crushed their lips together in a hard vicious kiss. He sat the jar on the counter and pulled Edward closer as the man’s tongue cut through his mouth and taunted him. 

Edward’s aggression left Harry with a dizzying sensation as the arousal whipped around him like a cord. He was being turned around and lead to the table, one foot kicking the chair in his path away. Edward pinned him on his back to the shiny surface, and bared down upon him. 

Last month, Harry would have shown a lot of fear and uncertainty, but as his blood continued to rush through all parts of him, that hunger that he realized was not just from Jean-Claude made itself known and he was fighting Edward’s mouth with his own. 

It was not a nice and soft touch. His hands calloused nearly shredded Harry’s trousers, the belt that had so many hidden items clanked onto the table as Edward tore it from him. “My invested interest has grown,” he growled. 

Harry bit him in retaliation, his own hands moving and unbuckling Edward’s belt and loose jeans. He pulled the long thick girth from it’s confines, and gripped the man who glared harshly at him. Harry smirked as prettily as he could before shuffling off the table and diving down to run his tongue along the swollen head. 

“Show me who you really are, Edward,” he purred and swallowed the man who was thicker than Jean-Claude and more coiled with viens tightly packed along his cock. It was as lightly tanned as the rest of him, and the pulse in the back of his throat urged him further. 

Getting even a growl from Edward, Harry considered an accomplishment. He pulled Edward out of his mouth, strings of saliva hanging between them, and he sucked all around the sides, teasing and taunting the smooth firm balls. 

Rough fingers buried into the top of his hair, gripping so hard that he thought he’d lose a few strands. All the while he was already preparing himself, a trickle of magic here and there had him clean, and he hardly had to do much to lubricate and stretch himself as he was already twitching. But knowing Edward, the assassin would drive himself inside of Harry without any amount of warning. 

To Edward, this fuck will be like a mark in it’s own way, and Harry wouldn’t give him the satisfaction hearing him cry in pain. But, then that might be kind of fun. Jean-Claude was so soft and sweet, and Edward was hard and rough. He was salty and sour all at the same time. 

He worked the man’s cock so hard that the precum was already running, and Edward’s breathing was harsh and ragged. As if he’d been chased by a dozen vampires down an alley. Harry sucked further in before Edward could take it no more and yanked him back to his feet. 

His blue eyes were a glacier as he grabbed Harry’s jaw and squeezed it. “How do you want me?” Harry managed to say before biting down on the skin between the index finger and thumb. 

Before he knew it, the man turned and slammed him down onto his stomach. He thought maybe the eyes were too intense for a first time. Harry’s back arched as the man tugged his trousers to his ankles, and then slapped his backside causing him to yelp. 

“Good. Are you noisy?” 

“I don’t know if I was before. Jean-Claude made me noisy,” Harry taunted and he let out a scream when Edward’s hand crashed down again, the sound of a slap vibrated off the walls. “ _ Ouch! _ ” 

_ Thank Merlin for silencing charms. Hermione would kill him. _

“You’re soaked. Did you do this with magic?” 

“Fuck me and find out,” Harry taunted tilting his head so that the man could see his eyes. Just enough. His lashes fluttered, and his eyes rolled when a finger slipped harshly inside. It slid so easily, and yet there was some resistance. 

“When was the last time?” 

“About four in the morning?” Harry squealed when Edward slapped him again, with his other hand this time. As Harry predicted, the man did not move slow. All Harry had time for was the grip of his hips, the jerk that brought him closer, and then Edward’s fat cock pushed between his cheeks. 

_ It hurt! _ Much more than his first time. Harry tried to bite down on the cry only for it to slip between his lips. His stomach knotted as Edward’s hips arched into his bottom going as far as he could. It hit his nerves inside causing a strange mix of pain and pleasure. 

First the pain and the pressure was intense. It was like a knife, but then when it hit it was like a sliver of pleasure poking through closed curtains sprayed through him, and when Edward pulled back the sensitivity had him moaning.

It was pain that caused such a sensitive sensation that Harry had to bite down on his knuckles, his knees buckling, and his breaths to become sharp when Edward thrust in and out of him hard but slow every fucking time!

He loved it. It was a new kind of pleasure that he hadn’t considered. He yelped when Edward seized the back of his neck, clenching some of the hair, and pulled him up from the table. Edward’s other hand snapped up and clenched his throat tight. A mouth bit down on his ear and hips began to move in a perfect hard, slow, hard, slow motion to the point that Harry had become loud; strangled with the grip around his throat. A low hot growl searing through his ears as the thrusts went deeper, exploding through the nerves and causing an orgasm to spill out. 

He had never heard of an orgasm coming from pressing there until Jean-Claude, the perfect sexual vampire that he was, had only been able to get one from him and it hadn’t felt like much. 

But, then Edward comes along, and caused a riot to start through him. “Ahhh!” Harry cried when his hair was jerked. His throat was being squeezed with a lot of pressure, and while he could barely breathe and knew he was turning red in the face, the pleasure and pain kept colliding and pushing. 

His body was begging for more. He became lax, arching more into Edward, a sudden accidental whine of desperation spilling from him as he started moving in time to the thrusts. His head became a thick layer of white fog, Edward’s breathing hot and coarse on his skin. 

“Fuck!” Edward snapped when Harry forced himself back onto the thick cock. “I could throttle you harder, Little Raven!” 

“Do it if you dare,” Harry spluttered breathlessly, and Edward jerked them from the table. Sat in the nearby chair while still inside Harry. One hand still on his throat. 

“Ride me!” he snarled in order, and Harry’s body moved before his mind could comprehend. His trousers were kicked off to the floor. His palms on the table and he bounced on Edward’s stiff cock, taking it’s painful pushing and sensitive teasing that morphed into wild pulses. 

Edward pulled Harry back against his chest, and through the shirt he could feel the muscle and sweat. One hand remained on his throat, and the other gripped him around his own cock and began to stroke him as he rocked back and forth. He rotated his hips like he’d seen the men do at Guilty Pleasures, and he was rewarded with a low almost barely there groan. 

“I see you’ve been spending time watching the shows at Guilty Pleasures.” Edward hissed in Harry’s ear as he squeeze a bit tighter before loosening again.

Harry shuddered as the man’s mouth teased his ear. “Just passing by shows,” he moaned. “I don’t stick around for strangers.” 

“Fast learner, Little Raven. You always have been. On the table,” he ordered lifting Harry’s hips off him. 

Slick with sweat, Harry managed to get his boneless body onto the hard surface, the burning gape of his coiled entrance pulsing as he was half off the table with his legs dangling. He grabbed a hold of the soaked t-shirt glued to Edward and pulled him closer. He cried out when their mouths collided and their tongues warred, and forearms hooked behind his knees, spreading him so wide that he thought he would break, and Edward pushed deep inside of him once again. 

“No more choking?” Harry taunted. 

“Not quite the time to break you completely, Little Raven. I bet he didn’t so much as make you pinch. I bet he was smooth and easy.” 

Harry whined with every rock and thrust, Edward’s hips were more powerful than they seemed slamming into him. He bit down on Edward’s shoulder with a growl as he was pounded so hard that he swore he saw stars. 

“Perfect for me. He eases you in, and I can fuck you senseless!” Edward growled picking up a pace that left him dizzy. He ended up too weak to stay up and fell back, his eyes half open and glaring at the assassin. 

He moved his hips in time with Edward, lost in the gyration, and his eyes stung with blurring tears as the orgasms built and taunted before exploding. Edward was fucking him into the table, his back sliding and slipping along the surface, sweat pouring out of them as he got some leverage, hovered over Harry and like a dog fucked him sharp, fast, and hard. 

Harry screamed until his throat became raw, Edward let out a long throaty sound as his hips clenched, and he could nearly feel the man’s cum pouring into him as his own stomach was coated. It even splashed onto his chin and face. He took a deep shallow breath of air, tilting his head when Edward gripped his jaw and brought him back so that they were seeing eye to eye. 

“And that is why Little Raven, I like them experienced,” Edward drawled with a slower rougher breath. Harry could feel his chest through the t-shirt that lay across him. He felt like an inferno as he stared into the cold blue eyes digging into him like talons. 

It was as if Edward was downright serious about somehow owning him. All Harry could do was lick him. “You filthy bastard.” Edward’s only response was to smirk. 

Harry laid there as Edward peeled himself off, and it was amazing how the man could put himself back together, face going blank, although he did have a more relaxed edge. As if something had come out of him. 

_ Yeah, a lot of cum _ , Harry’s mind supplied. “Looks like if I want to be fed, I’m going to have to clean.” 

“Mhmm.” It was about all Harry could dare as the burning in this throat and arse became more prominent. He could feel himself leaking all over the table. “My kitchen hasn’t been this dirty since I had a pile of zombies on my floor.” 

“Least you smell better.” 

“I damn well better!” Edward took Harry’s slim wrists and helped him to sit. He then proceeded to wash Harry as though it were an everyday thing. Harry let him do it. It was probably as kind as Edward could get. 

It was an hour later before Edward was enjoying lunch on his now sparkling clean table. Harry had sanitized the damn thing causing Edward to smirk, and act as though nothing had happened. Harry had summoned and changed into a loose t-shirt and shorts. His other shirt was now in the trash-can along with his trousers. 

Great big bastard! Harry thought taking a plate upstairs to Hermione who was still glowering at him. “I’m sorry, Hermione,” he said, aware of the knot in his throat. He sounded like a frog. 

“Who is that?” Hermione hissed between her teeth, and she did come off as a cat, Jean-Claude had been right. 

“An acquaintance you don’t want on the other side,” he warned handing her the plate. 

Hermione was eyeing him. “Why are you all red? Did he hurt you?” 

Harry cleared his throat. “No.” He probably had a very nice handprint around his neck. His spine felt as though it’d been snapped in half and then glued back together. 

“Harry? What is going on? I thought you and Jean-Claude were together?” 

How did he explain to her? He couldn’t. There was no way. “It is what it is, Hermione. It’s best not to think too hard about it. I’ll be out most of the night. I have a zombie find,” he told her. 

“Are you taking him with you?” 

“Mhmm.” Although, he would not be going with Harry to find the wayward mad zombie. But, it was best she knew nothing else. “He comes by from time to time.” 

Hermione frowned. “I don’t like him.” 

“Neither does Draco.” 

“But, you do? You trust him?” 

“ _ Trust, _ ” Harry repeated with a hollow smile. “It all depends. I trust that as long as I am strong, he will invest in me. I also trust that the moment I become useless, he will disappear, kill me, or both.” He smiled at Hermione, and left her flabbergasted as he headed back downstairs. No amount of good sex will make him think otherwise. 

“She trying to plan my funeral?” asked Edward. 

“She doesn’t like you,” said Harry sliding down across from him, and feeling like a trooper for not flinching at the pain radiating through him. He crossed his legs, and began to eat with a bit more fervor than normal. 

“I wonder why? I am a pleasant good ol’ boy.” 

“As pleasant as a razorblade in a child’s Halloween candy.” Edward actually smiled at this. “Speaking of, maybe you can take him trick-or-treating when it comes around. No one will put razor blades in his then. You’d be the scariest thing on the streets.” He meant it as a joke of course, but Edward didn’t take it that way, which surprised him completely. 

Edward shrugged without looking at him as he cut the fish. “Maybe. If I’m in a good mood.” 

Harry had seared some fresh salmon. “He’s coming to live with me. I need this over with, and yesterday.” 

“Consider it done.” 

oOo

Harold Gaynor was no big deal. He had called the man, and wouldn’t you know it? He didn’t detect anything in Harry’s voice when he said that he’d been thinking about the deal he offered, and decided to do it to see if he could. Gaynor had promised to bring a sacrifice, but Harry declined stating he had his own he needed to take care of. 

_ Two birds, one stone _ . Gaynor thought it was great.  _ What a fool. _

Edward went on ahead to do as planned, Harry on the other hand didn’t bother with his car this time. He was going to arrive as an all powerful wizard, and to do that he would be breaking out his robes for the occasion. 

He was wearing tailored coal black robes with a line of silver and red that twined together as the stitching. It was snug and firm across his chest, and the cloak, even though it was blazing outside, would look pretty impressive. His hair lay as wild as it ever did, and he topped it with boots for an incline. 

He gathered his things in the rucksack, and once he stepped out of his house he pictured perfectly where he wanted to go, disappearing with a soft crack. He appeared inside the familiar blood and rot scented basement of Dominga Salvador. He flinched a bit at the sound of scratching and growling nearby. 

Harry would keep them where they were for evidence. Dolph would approve. He made sure there were no traps, using his wand to check the area around him. He had chosen the exact spot that he and Manny had been standing the last time he’d been there. He was about to search her out when he heard voices. 

“-So, John Burke has come to my home? I hear you are a powerful priest, niño. What can Abuela Dominga do for you?” Dominga Salvador’s rich accented voice trailed down into the ceiling of the basement. A swell of anger soared through Harry.  _ Damn him! _ He couldn’t afford another body right now. 

“You know why I’m here. You killed my brother, Peter Burke.” 

“I did no such thing.” 

“You’re a liar. I know the truth. He told me.” 

“Who, niño? Who is this individual who tells you lies? You and I are vaudun together, there are many who would seek to destroy us. To destroy what we try to create.” 

He heard John sneering. “We are nothing together! He has no reason to lie to me. We found this in my brother’s effects. It belongs to you right?”

_ Idiot! _ It was a copy, Harry thought darkly. When had he taken it? He should have known that John wouldn’t let it rest. He was a prideful and conceited arse, and on top of it all he was emotional over his brother. He would do anything, even risk his own death. 

Harry had no doubt that to most, the Señora was strong when compared against other vaudun practitioners. She’d been studying it for decades, and knew a few of the hidden magical world’s secrets as well. She would have a leg up in the typical non-magical world. 

He carefully made his way toward the steps, keeping his boots silent, and he shuddered when as he ducked low beyond a door something began to bang on it. It could smell him, whatever it was and Harry could smell it too. 

Harry was guessing he smelled better. As the walls starting snaking in a curve he reached the rickety stairs, and he only realized that as he was taking the first step that he didn’t need glasses or magic light to see. 

He could  _ see _ in the dark. 

It wasn’t great, but considering the basement was pitch black with not even a stream of light he could actually see ahead of him. As though it were a grainy black and white film. He could see each step, see the dangling bulb above his head. A few spiders and cockroaches crawling along the concrete floors. 

Spiders okay. 

Cockroaches,  _ not okay! _ Harry thought in disgust. 

“You are a fast one today, Harry,” he breathed as he continued to creep up the steps when he heard a shout of pain above causing him to snap his head upwards. “Probably Edward has you all loopy. I can’t believe what happened. Actually I can. Stupid Burke. You’re going to be dead before I get there. If she absorbs that...” Harry grimaced at the idea. His magic would get into her skin. She might even be able to put it to use. 

_ Ah dammit! _

John would be a toasted vaudun that was for sure. He was now at the top of the steps, and pushed against the door. A blink of solid light, the smell of fire, and the horror filled screams wrenched through the old house. He could feel the darkest and most evil magic flooding out along his skin. It touched his skin, licking at him, and John was howling in pain. Harry could hear clatters. 

“You would be a most lovely patron, John. You are quite handsome. I could make you a play thing. Of course you will need to die first,” she purred in what she thought must have been a seductive voice. For the briefest second, Harry thought about offering her lessons via Jean-Claude because she sounded like a wounded snake sliding over oil. 

Harry moved along her scratched and grimy floors. He saw them then and drew back with a deep breath as he saw the dark flames encased around Dominga’s once fragile frame. She looked like Medusa with the way her eyes were engorged, her tight bun was released and white hair flowed down her back. 

John was on the ground, burns all over his body and he was writhing as if under the Cruciatus Curse. 

He could feel the pulse of her magic reach a crescendo. “Stop!” Harry stood up straight, his wand out causing Dominga to turn with a vicious smile. 

John Burke let out a cry. “H-Harry!” 

“You idiot, I said I’d take care of it,” he growled. 

“Well, if it isn’t the magical niño, the Boy-Who-Lived,” Dominga hissed. “Have you come to me, child, to teach you finally?” 

Harry arched an eyebrow. “You have to be kidding me.” He deadpanned. 

“No, not kidding! You and I together, niño, we can make brilliant things happen! I know you destroyed all my presents. You took them from me. You are strong, niño, but I am stronger. I am far older and wiser than you could ever be. But together you and I could-” 

“Stop your rambling!” Harry sliced his arm causing her to shudder back. “You won’t be able to send a single spell my way without facing the same agony that Voldemort did. I should probably thank John for getting in my way.” He said eyeing the man crying on the ground.

She didn’t believe him, and when she flung a black spinning fire-ball toward him, he smiled when it turned and smacked into her causing her to let out a gasp and smash against one of her shelves of knick-knacks. It went crashing down on her head. 

“Why does no one ever listen to me?” He asked shaking his head as he moved to stand beside John. 

“What did you do to me!?” Dominga roared. 

“I didn’t do anything. Actually, it was John here. Good going.” 

“Wh-what?” John Burke tried to sit up, part of his face was burned, but it wasn’t too bad. She was giving him a slow torture. His eyes were wide and blood shot. 

Harry reached into his pocket, and withdrew the real Gris-Gris. “Did you think I was going to leave it there? You gave her a copy of the Gris-Gris formed with my magic.” He grinned at this. “My magic does not like being used by anyone but me unless someone has permission to use it. Most real witches and wizards are exactly like that. You see, Voldemort housed his magic within me for years, and when he attacked me, he would attack himself. It didn’t want to be attacked. It’s how he died. He attacked me with his own powers inside of me. This here is your magic.” 

“Give it to me!” Dominga lunged, but Harry tripped her causing her fall onto her face next to John. 

He was going to do something stupid. He looked down at the wide-eyed John. “I hope I don’t make a mistake. But, I’d like to see her get what she deserves. Hold out your palm, John.” John turned it over, and Harry placed the Gris-Gris into it a bit firmer than he meant to, releasing a tiny thread of his magic. So stunned and confused John did not notice. He folded John’s fingers across it. “Absorb it.” 

He looked up at Harry, and then he recalled the magic, forcing the wriggling charm to be absorbed as Dominga let out a cry of horror. 

“NO!” 

All of his wounds began to heal, and John climbed to his feet. “I’m going to kill her.” John took a step, but Harry snapped his fingers causing him to freeze. 

“No, you’re not. I’m not done.” 

John turned his head. “What do you plan?” 

“I plan to show her what a real Necromancer is, and she is the one who pulled the trigger, John. The beginning lies in a cemetery not far from here. You don’t want to miss the show.” He turned to the wide-eyed Dominga, and he took out his wand. “You know what’s brilliant? The Imperius Curse is a light spell, and that means that my magic won’t register that it’s hurting you. I can use it without discretion.  _ Imperio! _ ” 

He smirked as Dominga Salvador did not resist. His magic pouring through her answered to the main core of his magic, and she stood upright as if strings had been attached to her head. 

He then spoke in a clear silk voice at Dominga. “Once you arrive at the cemetery you will listen to the man named Edward. Everything he asks, you will do. Do I make myself clear, Dominga Salvador?” 

“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate. 

“Where is she going? How are you commanding her?” asked John. 

“Not a magic you can possess like vaudun, John,” said Harry. “I let you have her magic because she will soon meet Death face to face. I can see no other punishment for your brother.” 

John looked down at Harry, his face full of shock and disbelief. He then turned to Salvador. He spread out his hand and fisted it as he dropped his eyes. “I can feel her magic in me.” Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s strong. She would have killed me.” 

“Yes, yes we know. I have to get this show on the road. I have a mad zombie to catch. If you see a man named Antonio. Do not touch him!” Harry ordered. “Or have you already?” He placed his hands on his hips as though he were a disappointed father. 

John blinked. “No, I haven’t seen anyone here.” He then let out a gasp. “Look out!” 

Harry ducked and barely missed the gun-shot that went off. It hit a nearby picture on a wall, and he rolled out of the way to see that it was Enzo standing there. 

“You will not get any further! Señora, what will you have of me?” 

Dominga never said a word, and instead just stared at him. Harry grinned. “Dominga…” he said in the sweetest voice he could muster. “ _ Kill him _ .” 

Enzo’s eyes widened. “No!” But it was too late, her black ball of fire shot out of her hand, and Enzo went flying toward the doorway into the kitchen. He let out a wheeze as the fire ate at his clothes and skin. He began to thrash and roll to try and put it out, but magical fire didn’t work that way. 

“Finish him.” 

She sent another spell, her bony spidery like fingers spreading and then making a fist. This one had him rising from the ground as if someone had him around the neck, and was squeezing from the look of pain and lack of air. His face went from tan to red and now it was blue at the lips. He died slowly and painfully from Salvador’s own hand. 

“I might get spanked for this. He was supposed to kill you,” said Harry flatly as the last of the light went out of his eyes. He then shrugged. “Oh well, might be fun.” 

“You need to cleanup here,” said John suddenly. He showed no remorse or care that Harry had Enzo killed. “I owe you a debt.” 

“You owe me a lot. I shouldn’t have given you that gris-gris. I don’t like vaudun,” Harry said coolly. “It messes with the natural order, but I will try and look beyond it. Tell me one thing, just be aware that I will know if you lie. Did you take part in the ritualistic murders in New Orleans? I heard all about it. I wouldn’t care if children weren’t so involved. Most adults can deal with their own shit.” 

John looked down at his blazing eyes. “No. I am not that kind of practitioner. We were weak and sickly children. We chose vaudun to survive, and it has allowed us to survive. It is a curse and a gift. I am aware of what it can do, and what I can become.” 

Harry studied his face that should be handsome. His chin that was covered in fuzz wavered. 

“My question is what are you?” 

Harry smiled. “I am Death’s closest companion.” He stepped over, bent down, and shut Enzo’s wide-open eyes with two fingers. “I’ll cleanup later. That’s the easy part. We still have cops to satisfy.” He was sure that John wouldn’t breathe a word of this. Harry would make sure of it. Dominga wasn’t the only one to absorb a hint of his magic after all. 

Harry reached for a candlestick sitting on a table. He tapped it with his wand. “ _ Portus! _ ” It began to glow blue. “You will take hold of this. You will listen to the man in the cemetery. Do as he says if you value your life.” He held out the stick. 

John looked confused. “What-?” 

Harry sighed. He wasn’t about to explain it. “Just take it. You too Dominga.” 

The moment he and Dominga touched the candlestick, Harry let go and the two of them vanished. 

oOo

Riverridge was a modern housing development. Everything was the same in a very Dursley and Privet Drive sort of way. Harry appeared behind a large oak tree. One of the few left on such a tidy street. 

Harry saw the news reporters prowling restlessly at the edge of the search area. It had to be the longest caution yellow tape Harry had ever seen. Riverridge was more akin to a small town than a housing development. 

He had very little time to find this zombie, and if they didn’t find the zombie after evacuating every single home the police force was going to be in deep shit. He was still wearing his robes, but had removed the cloak. It now looked like a form-fitting tailored butler’s outfit without the white frills. Only Jean-Claude could get away with frills in this day and age. 

He stepped into the slowly dying light next to a rubbish bin. Dolph spotted him and made his way over. “Just get here?” 

“Yeah. You’ll be pleased with some of the information I’ve uncovered. I’ll give it to you after we find this thing.” 

Dolph looked at him severely. “What did you do to get it?” 

Harry looked at him squarely in the face. “Looked at Peter Burke’s things, Dolph. It was all I needed to find the one responsible.” His eyes lit up, first sign of life since this whole thing happened. “John is innocent,” he said. “Still don’t like him, but he is truly innocent of this. I hope he goes back to New Orleans and never comes around with his vaudun again. Let’s get this show on the road.” 

Dolph nodded. “Yes, my ass will be on the line if we come up dry.” 

Harry began to make a circle around one of the cul-de-sacs. He spotted Zerbrowski. 

“Nice duds, Harry. Where are you going to?” Zerbrowski teased coming to meet him. His face was strained, and he was trying to show his light-hearted personality, but everyone was worried and a bit terrified. As they should be. 

“Nowhere if we don’t find this zombie,” said Harry. “If I were a zombie where would I hide?” 

“God, we’ve looked every-fucking-where!” Zerbrowski growled. 

“Watch the language, you know how Dolph is,” said Perry coming over. “Hey Harry. How are you doing?” 

“Better if we can find this.” It was then he noticed that the one thing every house had in common as Zerbrowski and Perry talked about where all they’d looked. It was the fact that there were large rubbish bins at the end of every lane on the street. 

Sunday wasn’t a trash day, Harry thought. Unless Monday had been trash day, and the police had stopped it. 

Harry began to move toward the first as though he were on fire. “Rubbish!” 

“What?” Dolph having seen Harry throw the first one open came rushing over. “What are you doing?” 

“Trash bins. They can hide a body.” 

“But wouldn’t the arms and legs go to sleep?” asked Zerbrowski. 

“With what circulation?” 

“Oh.” 

Dolph turned and let out a booming yell. “Everybody check the trash cans! The zombie is in one of them. Move it!” 

But, Harry feared for their life. This thing was dangerous. It was old and it was raised by voodoo. He didn’t want them to open anything without him around. He tried to be quick. He ignored the orders to stay back as he wasn’t a police officer, but Harry kept on the move. 

Ki, a short and handsome Asian man was beside Harry along with a woman behind him. She was the one who nattered on about staying back. He didn’t trust her to be a good enough shot or trust her to subdued it and not get killed. This thing annihilated families. Husbands and fathers bigger than they all were, and chances were they were only going to find it when someone screamed bloody murder. 

“It is nice to be working with  _ the _ Harry Potter. I have heard much,” Ki whispered lowly drawing a surprised look from Harry who turned to the man. 

“You know of me?” 

“My family. A first generation,” he said beaming. “You protect that world and then you come here. So thank you.” 

Harry flushed. “I’m trying. One person at a time.” 

“You do good.” 

“You can use magic?” 

“No.” He shook his head. “My daughters. I have three. All witches. All at Ilvermorny. I read their books. Make sure it is good. I am proud.” He said beaming. “They will be strong. I want them to be strong.” 

Harry smiled back. “I’m glad. Ilvermorny. I might not know much about the school, but it rivals Hogwarts. Let’s find this thing.” 

“Yes!” 

As screams wrenched the dying light, Harry didn’t freeze like the other two, and instead took off at a run toward the screaming. He was the fastest, everyone had stayed put in shock except for Harry. He ran into the darkness along the houses, and his vision came in handy as he scanned the black and white film, the rows of few trees, and flower bushes as darkness continued to blanket them. 

Harry had no idea if anyone was behind them, but he had his magnum in one hand, and a wand in the other. A sense of movement was everywhere around him with the cops running, but Harry feared it was too late as the screaming had stopped. 

No gunshots. Why not? Why hadn’t someone gotten off a shot?

Harry ran down the side yards of four houses when he came across a high metal fence, and even with his gun in hand managed to use his magic to propel him over it. Using one hand to grasp the top metal bar, and fling himself much to the gasps of the others a few feet away. Harry landed on his feet in the soft dirt of a flower bed. He saw Ki and Roberts trying to approaching the fence. Shit, he had to make this fast. In the bloom of the flower beds, he could see the grainy outline of a large man crouched within the brush. It was ready to strike. 

“I see you.” he said as Roberts was the first to vault over. It lunged for Harry causing Robert to let out a scream. Ki flung himself away the moment he fell to the earth. Harry went rolling, and he quickly retaliated with a headbutt that sent the zombie hissing backwards. 

“You are persistent!” it hissed like a snake. “You are Necromancer…” 

“ _ Incendio! _ ” Harry lashed out with a great ball of fire. It let out a high pitch scream and took a tumble backwards. 

Roberts was trying for her gun, but the zombie rushed into her causing her to scream as it took a bit bite out of her shoulder. 

“No!” 

Harry did the only thing he could do and bashed it over the head with the magnum. He was too close to houses to use Fiendfyre and Ki was right there as Roberts fell, blood spurting from her. 

Harry conjured a dozen or so bandages as the zombie scampered off. “Here!” He also dropped a blood replenisher into the man’s hand. “Give this to her!” 

“Be careful!” Ki called as he immediately put pressure on the wound. 

It had moved so fast, Harry hadn’t expected it. But he was back on his feet and moving. No one else was dying tonight. Not if he had anything to say about it.

Harry whipped his head around and saw in the distance it crouched low to the ground again in the deepest part of the shadow. He was not getting away this time. Harry rushed forward and the zombie was off; but Harry had it in his eye and chased it in perfect line. If he could get somewhere safe enough, it would die with Fiendfyre. 

It rounded the corner of the house and Harry continued to run, keeping the gray thing in his sights. Dammit. He ran as far from the wall as he could but when Harry blinked the sweat out of his face it was gone. 

He stopped instantly, his breaths coming out in heavy gulps. He strained his ears to drown out everything else when he realized that this was never an ordinary zombie. It might have been an animator or a real Necromancer. It recognized him after all. 

Zombies don’t like to climb, but a Necromancer. They embodied all death. They took death differently. It was always wise to burn a Necromancers body once they died. In fact, a real necromancer worth his or her salt would do such a thing. They’d burned Voldemort’s body on Harry’s insistence. Harry raised his eyes, striking green locking with the creature. 

“Put me back.” It hissed and then it lunged for Harry, smashing him into the ground with a weight of a dozen Quidditch Beaters. “I tried to get your attention before it consumed me. I took the boy. You failed. I tried to resist. Could not. Flesh and I remember.” 

He was old, more than a century. More than two centuries. His lips didn’t quite work, and his hair was like damp grass. His skin clung to his bones like wax that had half-melted. His eyes however were burning bright. No white or milky yellow film. 

It glimmered with a soul. Harry could feel it. Dominga’s true creation; a zombie with a soul. He didn’t wait around for anything more. He didn’t even pause as soon as he realized what it was. “ _ Avada Kedavra! _ ” 

A flash of brilliant green light smacked into the zombie on top of him. It keeled over to the side, and Harry watched, splayed out in the grass like he was watching the stars, as a glimmer of darkness took shape over the dead zombie. It swirled and hovered. 

It was the soul that Dominga had trapped. It was no wonder Peter Burke didn’t survive. A torture like that would cause anything to frenzy. 

It was over, and Dolph who was surprisingly right behind Harry let out a sharp breath as he clasped his knees with his hands and stared at the thing. 

“You got it.” 

Harry was still on the ground staring at it. “Dominga Salvador, Dolph. I’d suggest her son. Antonio. He knows it all.” He rolled back to his feet as everyone else came running a little too late. Ki was not with them. “Is Roberts okay?” 

“She’ll make it. Ki told us you saved her.” 

Everyone looked at the zombie. 

“Why was it so different?” asked Zerbrowski. No one wanted to move, so scared as they were that it would get up and start attacking again. 

Harry had a plan to take it with him somehow, but he couldn’t do it now. A soul needed to rest. He used his foot to turn over the zombie. It’s eyes were wide open. “Dominga entrapped it’s soul.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Dolph. 

“Zombies don’t have souls,” Harry explained. “They are a mere essence of what they once were. But if you entrap their soul into a zombie, it becomes almost human. It won’t decay. It won’t die like normal zombies. But, it’s mind is rotted. It’s tortured. A soul is not meant to be rehoused once it has left the body. It is why an Animator waits three days for the soul to depart before raising a zombie. Left too long it becomes a killing machine.” He sighed as he placed his hands on his hips. Ki had come to stand beside him. “He spoke to me. He learned that no one was paying attention to a homeless man and a couple of amorous teens. He learned that flesh gave him his memory. As I suspected. He was an animator in life. A Necromancer maybe. Maybe a voodoo practitioner even. He took the boy in hopes you’d find him and put him to rest. But, he couldn’t control himself.” 

“I’m glad it’s dead,” said Zerbrowski. “I need to go home and kiss, Kate.” 

“What did you do to it?” asked Dolph. 

“I used a spell that shreds the soul from the body. Let it pass on. It only works with the dead.” It was a bold faced lie, and not even Ki knew different. He didn’t have access to those books. “Peter Burke couldn’t control it. He was a third rate Animator.  _ This _ thing wasn’t.” 

He wished his night was over, but it had only just begun. He was also late for a very important date. 

He checked the time using Zerbrowski’s watch. “Got somewhere to be?” 

“A date,” he said. 

“Ooh, who is he?” 

“You don’t want to know,” Harry decided with a grin and Zerbrowski laughed. 

“I think I do! Is that why you’re dressed like that? You kind of smell like a corpse. Is that okay?” He sniffed Harry’s shoulder playfully. He’d never met someone as easy going as Zerbrowski. He liked this man. If he wasn’t straight and married. Harry might have looked his way once or twice. 

_ Okay, maybe a third _ . He did like personalities first. 

“Lucky me, he overlooks things like that,” said Harry grinning as he thought of Edward. 

“It’s not this John Burke fellow is it?” asked Zerbrowski. 

Harry had a look of horror. “Hell no! I wouldn’t date John Burke if he were the last available man standing.” He shuddered. “ _ Vaudun _ . Not my thing!” He left Zerbrowski and another cop laughing as he continued shuddering while walking away if only to make his point. 

Only two men died, Roberts was in the ambulance as her neck had been patched, and Ki came over to stand with Harry as he asked the EMT how she was. 

“She’ll live, whatever you gave her stopped the blood flow. If you hadn’t, she wouldn’t be here. That zombie got her artery, the one that leads to her heart.” 

“I’m glad.” 

Ki was beaming at him, and Harry resisted a groan. He reminded him of an Asian, Colin Creevey. Death, rest his soul. 

“You were brilliant Harry Potter!” He grasped Harry’s hand with both of his and shook wildly. “I can’t wait to tell my girls I met you and worked with you!” 

“I- I’m glad you’re alright.” Harry patted him on the shoulder and the man glowed ever more. “Could you please keep what you know about my world a secret?” he asked hesitantly. “I really don’t want the stares.” 

Ki nodded. “Cross my heart!” 

“Good. Keep it crossed. I have to go. I have a date. It’s a good thing he doesn’t mind my new cologne.” Ki started laughing. Harry wasn’t sure if it was that funny as he took to the streets to try and find a place to hide and disappear.

Edward was going to kick his arse! 

“Yay me.” 

He disappeared with a pop the moment he was undercover. 


	15. Chapter 15

“ _ You. Are. Late. _ ” 

Not even a second after he popped in beside Edward, who didn’t so much as flinch, the ice blue eyes were pouring down on him. 

“Do I get an excuse?” asked Harry, innocently. 

“I can  _ smell _ your excuse,” Edward drawled. “You want to explain this one before I shoot him?” John Burke was disarmed. His vaudun useless as he was tied to a tree and gagged. 

Harry took in the scene, and it reminded him of one of the films he’d seen with Draco at the cinema a year or so back. 

He was in a large old family cemetery with well-aged stones that had seen better days. Some were tilted to the side thanks to the weather and ground shifting. Harry could feel the magic pulsing. An alter of sorts was set up by the grave that was to be brought up. It was made of marble as Harry had instructed Gaynor. He didn’t need marble, but he figured if he was going to bullshit Gaynor he might as well go all the way.

It was a hot night, the wind was blowing setting the scene nicely. He was pleased to see that one guest in particular was strapped to the alter. Dominga Salvador was well and alive still, strapped down in preparation. Her eyes were almost dead. 

Gaynor looked as though he were grinning. He was sitting in his wheelchair and seemed to think it was brilliant that Harry was getting rid of her. 

“She’s cost me a lot of money and problems. I’m glad you and I could do business together!” Gaynor cheered like a boy scout. On each side of him were Bruno and Tommy. 

Yes, they were alive. But there was someone missing from this entire charade. He looked at Edward who was smirking at him. 

“Why is he here?” demanded Bruno pointing at John. 

“A spare. What else?” 

“And him?” 

“If your master can have protection so can I, right?” Harry asked innocently. “You are asking a lot of me,” he said with the perfect innocence of a little boy. “I know what happened with the last one risen. Let’s hope this one is  _ not _ an animator.” 

Gaynor was so stupid, and yet Bruno was watching him as though he didn’t believe him. “It’s alright Bruno. I understand. You can have your protection! I might need it too if it goes like the last one.” He clapped his hands. “Shall we get on?” It was as if no one could resist his money for long. No one would betray him because of the money in his pocket. Oh how wrong he was. 

He then grinned. “Oh, Edward…” he purred in a singsonged voice. 

“Yes, Little Raven?” he asked as though he were a good ol’ boy. 

“Did you have the extra thing brought?” 

Edward grinned like a wolf, and reached out to his other side as though he were touching air, and pulled the cloak of invisibility like a sheet, revealing Cicely who was frozen with her mouth gagged and she was tied up. Her eyes big and wide. She was wearing a skirt way too short, and her heels must be painful. 

Gaynor let out a gasp. Tommy and Bruno moved only for Edward to double tap them between the eyes before anyone could draw a breath. 

“What -?” 

He then snapped his fingers at John causing the binds to release along with the cloth in his mouth. Harry mouthed to Edward. ‘I own him.’ 

“Sorry John. He didn’t know who you were,” he said sweetly. “You might want to stand back.  _ This  _ is going to get messy.” 

Gaynor was trying to move, but he found that he was frozen. “What have you done? What are you doing? Cicely!” 

Harry reached for the woman, gripping her arm tight as Edward would and he threw her toward the alter making her fall on top of Dominga. 

“You want your ancestor raised right?” Harry held out his hand and Edward handed him a very large steel bladed machete. Talk about overkill. But, it got the point. Gaynor was almost gray. His eyes were rolling. 

“You can’t!” 

“Oh, yes I can. Just like she and you cut up Wanda. I am going to cut her up,” said Harry pointing the blade at the woman’s back. “I am then going to feed this entire ground her blood, and I will raise the dead. I will raise every fucking zombie in this graveyard.” He seized Dominga by her hair, and yanked her off. 

“You stand there!” He ordered causing her to back up with the blankest of eyes. “Now, I want you to _ feel _ everything. I want you to _ see  _ everything. I want you to  _ know _ everything, but I do not want you to move or talk. Do you hear me? Nod if you do.” 

She gave a nod, and Harry watched as all her senses came back. She became aware of where she happened to be, and what was going on. “...” 

Harry could already feel the Death Magic swirling around him. He could even feel the glow of the charm beneath his robe as he walked toward Cicely and turned her over. Gaynor let out a frantic sound, cross between a no, and a please. 

“You cut up a handicapped woman’s legs, you disgusting pig, and you don’t expect to get something back? She took part in it. She had pleasure from it!” Harry roared causing the magic to move around like a whip. Gaynor went quiet and started whimpering. “You have no right to try and barter and plead your way out of it! I am not the monster here. You are the monster. I am only a reaper doing his job, and your time has come due.” In a swift flurry, Harry jerked the woman’s head up so that she was looking Gaynor. He brought the machete down and he was the last thing she saw as the blood began to gush. 

“ _ I call the spirits of all in the cemetery. Please rise and stand for my call _ ,” Harry’s voice had gone dark and deeper than normal. He used a push of his magic to make a circle, the herbs being sprinkled next, and the world around them began to whistle, and like one massive dirt blanket all the graves began to fold back, and every last body no matter it’s age rose from their slumbers. 

Edward made a noise. “Little Raven,” he hissed. 

“It’s okay. You can spank me later if one so much as touches you,” Harry looked back as all the zombies migrated toward him. At least twenty. 

John Burke had his mouth open, his eyes wide, and Dominga had nearly collapsed from the weight of the magic as while he was pulling the zombies, he had drained her of the last of his own magic. 

“Devour these two for disturbing your ancestors!” Harry ordered pointing his fingers in two different directions, and he stepped back as Gaynor let out a howl. John jumped away to hide behind a tree, and Edward watched in fascination as Harry stood beside him as all the zombies piled on to eat the howling Dominga who he had released from the Imperius Curse, and Harold Gaynor. Cicely’s blood still dripped, and the power was strong enough that it even made Edward take a breath. 

“I do believe Little Raven, you may have gone overboard,” said Edward with a whistle. “I approve.” 

“How many points did this get me?” he asked with a smile. 

“Many,” admitted Edward. “But, so you know. I am not cleaning it up.” 

Harry let out a laugh as the magic played in the air, and the zombies continued their eager feasting until every last bit of them were gone. Dolph wouldn’t be happy, and tomorrow he expected they would be raiding Dominga Salvador’s property. He had warned them to have exterminators as there were some things in her basement that would require an exterminator to be destroyed. As much as Dolph played by the rules, he wasn’t about to ask Harry how he knew about it. It wouldn’t be worth it, and the case would still close. 

But they would eventually clear it. A few wounded maybe, but no one should die. Antonio would be in jail, and a warrant would be put out for Dominga Salvador. But they would never find her. No one would look at him, and he was happy for that. 

“Mon Amour, I must say you are breathtaking,” said a voice causing Edward to turn and stare blankly at the shadow coming toward them. John once again drew back as if trying to shrink away. Harry grinned as Jean-Claude drew a breath as he stood very still. “Your magic is coasting all over the place.” 

“I told you, Jean. I am not made of glass.” 

“Non.” He studied the group of the zombies who were now hanging around Harry. One even tried to pet him. Harry smiled at it gently as though he had never asked them to perform something so horrible in the first place. 

“Go now and rest. Go back to your places. You will no longer be disturbed!” Harry called with a clap, and all the zombies turned instantly and began to follow the magic back to their beds.

“Bonsoir, mon Tueur d'Ombre,” he said pleasantly. 

Edward merely stared at Jean-Claude. His ice blue eyes fixated on the tall vampire. He was giving his most dead stare before cocking his head back, and looking at Harry. “Your pretty boy has arrived.” As if it wasn’t obvious. 

Jean-Claude pursed his lips elegantly at the moniker. “Please come up with something more elegant than that.” 

“I’m not elegant,” said Edward. “Are you really going to leave this one hanging?” he asked jabbing his thumb to John to see the man staring at them. “I don’t think you should. You owning him or not. He can still free himself.” 

Harry looked at Edward before looking at Jean-Claude who smiled as though he could read Harry through and through. He moved like the shadowy fog that he was, and John Burke had no time to realize what was coming at him before he was captivated and rolled by Jean-Claude. 

Harry could feel the vampire’s magic playing in his mind, whispering sweet things that were hardly understandable.  _ “In time mon Amour, you will come to embrace all.” _

“He does have his uses,” said Edward with a drawl. 

“Edward. Can we all play nice?” he wondered innocently. 

“I am playing nice. He got you loosened up. I guess it deserves some points.” 

Harry’s face flushed, and Jean-Claude cleared his throat. “I heard you. In fact, I felt you the entire time, mon Amour. You had fun. I am pleased.” 

And it took all of a moment before Harry realized what he said. “ _ Jean-Claude _ !” he shrieked, face turning purple. John Burke sagged into Jean-Claude’s arms. He pinned the man to the tree; he was knocked out completely. 

Edward let out a cold chuckle. “Another point, and here I thought you broke him of it.” 

“Why would I ever break our mon Amour of something so dashing as the blood pocketing his cheeks?” he asked. “Your vaudun man will remember what has happened, but he will be unable to speak of it. He does not know your Edward. He’s never seen him. You can thank me later.” He winked at Edward all the while gliding to stand beside Harry who was now between both men. 

_ Oh boy. Lucky him.  _

_ Not! _

Edward didn’t even move or blink. It wasn’t like he would ever thank Harry for much, unless it was private. 

Harry stared up at the husky dark sky. It was blotted in black. “I have a little boy to get and smother in hugs, but I am very tired,” he said suddenly, and that was when all the magic and exhaustion of the night wrapped around him, and he met the darkness as his eyes slid shut, and one of the men caught him. 

Who it was, he wouldn’t know, but he might have been aware of a low growl from somewhere. Maybe it was all a dream because who knew?

When Harry awoke both men were gone and he was home in bed with the sunlight streaming in through the tightly packed curtains. A scent of roses and gunmetal tickled beneath his nose. He found that he had not only been washed and cleaned, but laid to bed as he sat up blearily. He was wearing silk purple pajamas. 

He found Hermione snacking on some breakfast she’d made downstairs. She gave him a look. “Hard night?” she asked crisply. 

Harry was trying to remember everything that happened as he slowly sat down. She slid him a cup of coffee. “What happened? Who brought me home? Did they fight?” 

Hermione swallowed the strawberry jam slathered English Muffin, and then cocked her head. “I don’t know what happened, Harry. I know both brought you home, and while they didn’t sound like they were fighting, I could hear some words coming out of them. What on earth did you do?” 

“... You don’t want to know. But, it is over. All of it. Mad zombie found. Dominga and Gaynor dealt with. It’s best not to ask. Please, don’t ask. I kind of hate myself for what I did.” 

His human conscience was aware of what he had done to Cicely. Nothing else bothered him as much. She had been helpless, and yet she was a victim and a torturer all at once. How did he pull that apart? 

Hermione frowned at this explanation. 

“But, I had to. I felt like I did. Something strong has been coming over me lately, and it’s not the men in my life.” He clutched at the charm around his neck. It had glowed brightly last night. So bright in fact he could feel it against his skin. “I won’t tell you what happened exactly, but I will tell you that I raised an entire graveyard.” Hermione’s eyes widened. “A strange power flowed through me. A mix of Death Magic and something more. Something that is not of this earth.” 

“Vaudun?” She whispered in fear. 

“No. It did not have an evil feel to it. It had a neutral feel. Not good and not evil. I felt it last month when Jean-Claude, Edward, and I took on the Master of the City.” 

Her eyes widened at this. “The most powerful vampire in any given city?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah. I’ll tell you about that later,” he promised. He took in a breath and ran a finger along the wood. “Truth is. I think the Deathly Hallows is more than a story somehow. I don’t know the exact understanding, but I’m beginning to think that there is a modicum of truth in the fairytale.” 

Hermione stared at him. “You think you could be a master?” 

“I don’t know what to think. Sometimes, I speak without knowing what I am going to say; and when I say it, it often happens. I marked Dominga not a week ago for death. I know why I did it. But not the how. I don’t understand, Hermione, and it’s kind of scary.” 

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione reached out and gripped his hand. “Let me help you! I want to stay here. I want to do something with my life. I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to be the Muggleborn witch. I want to be me.” 

Harry couldn’t help but smile as he squeezed her hand back. “You don’t have to beg me. I know more than anyone what it is like to be weighed down by names and expectations. You are welcome here. Please, do stay here. I might need someone to help me sort out my men.” 

Hermione broke out into a smile and she started laughing. 

“I don’t get it. When did I get popular? Why me?” 

“Oh, Harry!” Her shoulders were shaking and she was snorting into her cup of coffee. 

Harry took a drink of his, and then he spat it out. “Merlin, Hermione. You are a genius witch, but your coffee is bollocks!” Hermione was still laughing as he stood quickly, took hers and dumped them out along with the pot. “If Edward drinks this, he’s going to tie you up again!” 

She was now crying so hard she doubled over and he enjoyed the sound in his often too quiet house as he prepared the new batch of coffee. It was around then that he heard the sound of the Floo followed by a childlike voice that made him turn and smile. 

“HARRY! HARRY! I’m HOME! You better come hug me or I’m going to bite you!” 

Teddy was home at last. 

“Hermione.” 

“Yes?” 

“Do you baby-sit?” 

He didn’t understand his men. He didn’t understand his powers. But he understood zombies and he understood Teddy. 

For now. Merlin help him. He was stuck between a rock and a very hard place. 

_ It wasn’t that bad of a place to be.  _

**-Fin-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One story ends, another soon opens. The next posting in our Harem of a Necromancer will be out soon.


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